Collapse Will Follow
by Penn Flinn
Summary: One month. One month since the warehouse, since Barry, Caitlin, and Cisco escaped from a kidnapping which left them battered and unsteady. Just when it looks like things may be back to normal, an old threat resurfaces to pick up the pieces of Jason's work. The wheel continues to spin. The nightmare, it seems, is only just beginning. (Sequel to "Calamity Will Strike")
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the sequel you didn't ask for, but the angst you hopefully want.**

 **If you haven't heard, this is the second of three fics in a series, of which "Calamity Will Strike" is the first. It would certainly help to read Calamity before this one, though I suppose you can feed on much of the drama without it. This is direct continuation, so characters and themes and such will be carrying through.**

 **As with the first, this is entirely Caitlin's POV. The same warnings apply, though perhaps not as intense as in Calamity: still, Flash-typical violence, blood, and injury will appear throughout. More squick warnings will follow, dependent on the chapter!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _I think someone was following me last night._

The text arrived on Caitlin's phone at precisely 1:43 on a Tuesday, vibrating on the table so loudly Caitlin jumped in her seat.

"What's that?" Barry said, shrugging up the cowl of his suit, glancing down at Caitlin's phone as he passed.

Caitlin clicked off the screen, not before catching the name attached to the text. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Someone's got a secret boyfriend." Cisco appeared out of the medical bay where he'd been changing—unlike Barry, he didn't have the luxury of putting on his "suit" in the middle of the cortex, in plain view, at the speed of a blink. "You know, Barry, I don't know how you stand this every day."

Caitlin lifted a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. While Cisco's "suit" wasn't nearly as ostentatious as Barry's, the way he fidgeted in it made him look even more like a fish out of water. The heavy pants and yellow-and-black leather jacket were more form-hugging than any of his t-shirts and jeans, sure—but they were designed to be at least as impact-resistant as Barry's. With his Vibe glasses on his face and his hair drawn back into a bun, he might have been a completely different person.

Which, now that Caitlin thought about it, was largely the point of a secret identity.

"You look great," Caitlin managed, stopping her giggles for Cisco's sake. "Don't you think he looks great, Barry?"

"What?" Barry looked around, lost. "Oh, uh, yeah. Great. Like a real superhero."

Cisco scoffed. "Well, not yet," he said. "I think to be a superhero you've got to be able to control your superpowers."

"That's what we're working on now," Barry reminded him with an enthusiastic clap to the shoulder. "Are you ready?"

If he hadn't been wearing his glasses, Caitlin was sure she would've seen Cisco's hesitation. "You'll be great," she said.

"And you'll be here if things go south, isn't that right?" Cisco said wryly.

"I didn't get my MD for nothing," Caitlin teased. She crossed her arms. "Remember, this meta has the ability to manipulate the wind. Or…" Caitlin frowned. "Or the air. Wind or the air. You're going to have to—"

"Be careful?" Barry said. "Do you ever get tired of saying that?"

"What do you think?" Caitlin teased right back. "All I'm saying is we don't know the full extent of her abilities. We don't know exactly what we're up against."

"Perfect training for Cisco," Cisco grumbled, tightening up his ponytail. "Let's send the guy with unstable powers into a volatile situation."

"Hey, don't discount your friendly local speedster who is going to be helping you," Barry said. "We'll be fine."

A twinge of nervousness spiked in Caitlin's chest. "You're sure you're up to this?"

Yes, in their superhero getup and with their usual banter, everything might have been standard procedure. However, the truth lay deeper. The fact that this was their first major mission in a month. Their first major mission since the lasting effects of Cisco's concussion had faded. The first major mission since Barry's legs had been fully functional again.

Since the warehouse incident.

All three of them had done remarkably well in terms of healing after the ordeal, but the memory of it was enough to give Caitlin pause.

But not enough to stop her.

"We'll be back in a flash," Barry said with a wink, prompting a groan from both Cisco and Caitlin.

"We'll work on the taglines. Let's go." Cisco planted his hands on his hips and made a face at Barry. "Ugh. This is so undignified."

Then Barry, with the hint of a smirk, scooped him up and flashed him away.

It was odd, Caitlin mused, having two superheroes on the team to keep track of. She wasn't always alone at the comms, not with Wells and Iris as permanent fixtures of the team, but she still felt Cisco's absence acutely whenever he went off to train with Barry. He'd been doing it more and more lately—ever since accidentally creating a wave of energy while trapped in the warehouse. The power had been unexpected, but Cisco, in true Cisco fashion, had insisted he learn how to use that power for good.

Speaking of the warehouse incident—

Caitlin returned to her phone, swiping open the new message, the contact name glaring up at her. _Rose_.

 _I think someone was following me last night._

Chewing on her lip, Caitlin considered her reply.

 _Are you sure?_ she typed. _Need backup?_

She fiddled with the computer mouse while she waited for a response. The comms were turned low, almost a low drone, but she watched Barry's vital signs closely. For her own sanity, she would have to convince Cisco to add monitors to his own suit soon. As predicted, he'd shied away from that particular element of the design, claiming that his vitals were his own business, thank you very much.

Caitlin's attention was divided again by the buzz of her phone.

 _No,_ came Canton's response. _Probably paranoid. It was late. They were men. Likely nothing._

 _If you're sure,_ Caitlin shot back. _How are you doing? Need to come to STAR?_

 _Are you kidding?_ Canton's text came quick. _I'll show my face there if I want to die. Been lying low. Thorn's quiet._

Caitlin allowed herself a tiny moment of relief. _Good. Knew you wouldn't need the serum for long._

The conversation ended there. Caitlin waited a minute more for another text to come through, but it seemed that Rose was through with chatting. If she was hard to read in person, she was even more so through text.

And she was probably right, Caitlin mused, about showing her face at STAR. It hadn't taken long for the others to discover that Caitlin had let one of their former kidnappers free from the pipeline—but it had taken longer for them to make peace with Caitlin's reasoning. When she first told Joe, she was sure the vein in his temple was going to leap straight out of his skin.

"Are you kidding me?" he'd steamed, as Barry and Cisco made themselves as small and silent as possible in their hospital beds behind Caitlin. "We spend hours looking for this woman, interrogating her…the woman who assisted in your kidnapping and torture…an uncontrolled metahuman…and you let her go without consulting us?"

"I can make my own decisions, Joe," Caitlin had said, stolidly standing her ground. "She just needed direction. Yes, I believe that. Yes, I am aware of what she did. Yes, I have a way to keep tabs on her."

Thankfully, and somewhat surprisingly, Barry, Cisco, and Iris had been slightly more forgiving. They certainly hadn't been _happy_ with Caitlin's decision—hell, she toed the line herself from day to day—but even Barry, who had spent the most time alone with Jason in that warehouse and was therefore least forgiving, grudgingly agreed that it had been a morally-influenced choice and that it was officially a matter of the past.

A blinking light on the computer monitor drew Caitlin's attention back to the present. On the digital display of Barry's suit, a spot on his left side flashed red. Caitlin scrambled for the comm volume and turned it up.

"Barry? Cisco? What's going on?"

A grunt from Barry answered her. " _We're fine_."

" _This girl packs a punch—wind-punch—"_

" _She can solidify the air_."

" _Heads up!_ "

Another grunt, then a strangled sound.

" _Barry!_ "

Then silence from both comms.

"Cisco?" Caitlin said. "What's going on?"

But Cisco didn't answer. Panicked, Caitlin looked to the monitors and saw that Barry's heartrate was skyrocketing and his oxygen levels plummeting. Frantically she began typing, trying to access security cameras, cellphone videos, anything, her mind five places at once. There wasn't even static on the other end of the comm line—something that might have indicated technical malfunction—just dead silence.

No, not dead.

Barry's heart rate was now falling, and while he was still alive, he clearly wasn't breathing anymore. While there was no way of tracking what was happening to Cisco, the lack of response suggested that he was undergoing the same thing. Caitlin punched a few more buttons, lacking much of Cisco's expertise and technical finesse, but desperate.

She was just reaching for her phone to call Joe when a _boom_ echoed through the comms and Cisco's line erupted into white noise, static.

"Cisco!" Caitlin stood involuntarily, clutching the edge of the desk with enough force to turn her knuckles white. Faintly over Barry's comm she heard a wheezing, gasping, coughing. Barry's oxygen levels began to rise, prompting a sigh of relief from Caitlin.

" _Cait_?" Cisco's voice was faint, coming through Barry's comm line. Cisco's own line was still thick with static, so Caitlin shut it off. " _Are you there_?"

"Of course," Caitlin said. "What's going on? What happened to your comm?"

" _I may have…accidentally fried it_ ," Cisco panted, his voice gaining volume. " _Barry's out like a light…but I think he's okay."_

"What happened out there?" Caitlin said. "I lost you for a minute."

" _Turns out this wind girl…_ " Cisco gasped in more air. " _…can cut off air to isolated areas. He started suffocating us. But…turns out stress really is what sets off my powers. And nothing like…being suffocated…to induce stress."_

A horrible hacking cough accompanied the end of the sentence. "Are you okay? Do you need backup?"

" _Just catching my breath,_ " Cisco said. " _My energy blast knocked out the meta. Can't tell if it knocked out Barry too, or if he passed out from lack of oxygen._ "

"Okay," Caitlin said. "Well, I'm glad you're alright. I'll send Joe to your location to help with the meta."

" _No need,"_ Cisco said. " _I hear sirens close. I'll get Barry out of the open. Once he's conscious we'll head back._ "

"Be safe," Caitlin said, somewhat unnecessarily. "I'll be waiting."

" _Aye-aye, Captain._ "

Confident that the two of them had it handled, Caitlin clicked off the comms again and cleared the computer screens of Barry's monitoring system. Once she had gotten rid of the anxiety-inducing images, she checked her phone again. A text from Joe had already arrived.

 _Is Barry downtown?_

 _Yes,_ she responded. _Meta subdued. Barry's fine_.

She tossed her phone back on the table and began gathering her hair up in a ponytail, as she'd been prone to do during extended periods of anxious solitude lately. Her arm was still stiff from the beating it had taken at the hands of both Jason and Thorn, just enough to serve as a reminder.

As she waited for Barry and Cisco to return, she considered Cisco's powers. She remembered vividly what it had been like in the warehouse—adrenaline, stress, didn't even begin to cover what had triggered Cisco's energy blast. She winced at the memory of Jason viciously pummeling her with the tire iron, the certainty of death in both of their eyes. Cisco's yelling. The pulse of energy from the core of his being that knocked everyone in the room flat.

Over the past month, since recovering from his concussion, he'd tested the theory that stress was the trigger for his offensive powers—a theory that Wells had all but volunteered to assist with—producing varied results. In Caitlin's opinion, Cisco's definition of "training" was nothing short of crazy, even if he did occasionally yield results. By locking himself in the trunk of a car, for example.

Lord knew how he had ever convinced her that he was ready to go out on training missions with Barry.

As if on cue, footsteps sounded in the hall just beyond the cortex. She readied herself for Barry and Cisco's arrival and planted her hands on her hips, so they would know right off the bat that she was unhappy. Her trademark disappointed stare was usually sufficient to get them to settle down enough for treatment, at least.

"I hope you two have learned your lesson," she called. "Are you alright?"

A voice answered, a voice like gravel:

"I could ask you the same question. It seems that you haven't learned _your_ lesson."

It wasn't Barry and Cisco who appeared in the doorway of the cortex. It wasn't even Joe or Iris or Wells.

The man who stepped into the room wore army greens and a wicked smirk.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," General Eiling said, and his grin widened.

* * *

 **I'm actually incredibly pumped about this fic/series, and I hope a couple of you will stick around, at least. In any case, the journey has been wonderful fun for me, and I'm excited to share it. If you're keen, I would love to hear your thoughts below! My normal posting schedule is Wednesday and Sunday, and that stays fairly consistent, so I'll see you very soon!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for the overwhelmingly-positive response to the first chapter! I'm glad you are all as excited as I am.**

 **Warnings for this chapter (which show up puzzlingly often in my fics?) are needles and forced injections/blood draw. If that squicks you out, you may want to skim over some of this chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

With a spike of fear embedded in her chest, Caitlin scrambled backward. Eiling, flanked by three of his cronies, took a stride into the room and looked around as if returning to an old haunt.

"Nice to see you again, Dr. Snow," he said. "I trust everything has been going well here at…STAR Labs." He rolled the name over his tongue like it had an unfamiliar, unsavory taste.

"Well enough that the military doesn't need to get involved," Caitlin said. "What do you want?"

Eiling continued looking around the space curiously, ever-advancing. "Oh, same as always."

Caitlin steeled. "Barry's not here," she said coldly.

"Shame," Eiling said. "Most people would use the Flash as a warning to intruders. 'The Flash will be here soon to rescue me,' that spiel."

"I don't need to be rescued," Caitlin said. Eiling barked out a laugh and kept advancing. Caitlin continued backing up until she hit the wall. Then she grabbed the first object within reach and brandished it.

"Oh, that's rich," Eiling said with sick amusement. "Are you going to staple me to death?"

Caitlin held out the stapler threateningly, but when Eiling gestured and his men wrestled the item away, she didn't put up much of a fight. There was only so much she could do against four army men.

"Funny enough, Mr. Allen is not the sole reason for this particular visit," Eiling said. "Gentlemen, would you please accompany Dr. Snow downstairs?"

Caitlin squirmed, but two of the men pressed close. They frog-marched her out of the cortex and to the stairs, the third man trailing close behind and Eiling leading the charge. As they marched, hollow with silence, Caitlin couldn't decide what was worse—hoping that Barry would be delayed enough not to confront the General, or hoping that he wouldn't. Surely, _surely_ Eiling didn't intend to kill her. But, then again, predictability had never been one of his more memorable traits.

She knew exactly where they were going the minute they started descending, but she didn't know why. When they stepped into the pipeline, her skin prickled with unease.

"Care to do the honors?" Eiling said, motioning at the control panels.

"I think you know your way around underground prisons enough," Caitlin countered.

Eiling smirked, then reached for the controls. A whirr, a clanking of pipes. Then the door opened—to nothing.

Eiling stared. "Where is she?" he said, frowning hard at the empty pipeline cell. "Where's the meta?"

"We don't keep metas down here anymore unless absolutely necessary," Caitlin said. "I have no idea who you're talking about."

"I thought it was your business to take care of hazardous metahumans." Eiling whirled on her, his eyes suddenly dangerous. "What did you do with her?"

"Who?" Caitlin said.

"Canton," Eiling said. "Rose Canton."

And it all clicked.

"Sh-she's not here," Caitlin said. "She wasn't our prisoner. We—I—let her go. You won't find her at STAR. You won't find her anywhere."

"I highly doubt that," Eiling said. He snapped his fingers at one of the army men. "Double check." The man shouldered his way forward toward the empty cell, and Eiling turned back to Caitlin. "My intelligence reported that Canton was being held here following her interrogation at the police station."

"I guess your intelligence was wrong," Caitlin said. "I'm shocked you even have any."

Rather than make him angry, the barb only seemed to charm Eiling more. "Sharp. Just like your friend Thorn."

"I don't know how you know about her," Caitlin said, "but clearly you're looking in the wrong place. There's nothing for you here. So, if you wouldn't mind, I have work to do."

"A-a-ah," Eiling chided. "While I've got you here, there's just one more thing I need."

"And what's that?" Caitlin started to say, but she was cut off by the two men at her side grabbing her by the arms and slamming her backward into the wall.

With the breath knocked out of her, she didn't have the energy to scream. But this time she did struggle. Viciously. She bucked against the hands on her arms and shoulders and kicked out, catching the third man in the shins. However, as if it didn't faze him, he drew a syringe from his pocket and moved closer.

Caitlin thrashed now, at the sight of the syringe, remembering the last time she'd been forcibly injected with an unknown substance. But, as it got closer, she realized that the syringe was empty.

The goon on her right side bared the crook of her arm. The three of them were so close to her now she could hardly breathe; she couldn't move, couldn't speak. The needle pricked her arm.

Then they were gone. The release of force was enough to make Caitlin collapse to the floor. She looked up just in time to see Eiling take the now-full syringe and pocket it.

"Thank you for your services," Eiling said, motioning his men backwards and tipping his hat. "I have no doubt that we'll see each other soon."

She just had enough time to register the words as a threat before the group disappeared back down the hallway.

She sat there, shaking, until she heard the basement door resoundingly close; then, unsteadily, she picked herself up off the floor and made her way to the stairs.

It was a long, slow walk back up to the cortex. Step by step, she felt herself growing heavier rather than lighter. It had been so long since their last encounter with Eiling that she almost felt as though she'd been transported back in time. Familiar, but no less terrifying. What did he want with Canton?

And, more puzzlingly, what did he want with _her_?

She was so engrossed in the weighty silence of the stairwell and her own solitude that the sound of chatter up in the cortex nearly caused heart failure. She stopped in her tracks, heart crashing against her ribs, until she recognized the voices.

Sure enough, when she reached the top of the stairwell and rounded the corner into the cortex, Barry and Cisco were there, obliviously raucous. Both were still in costume, though Barry had put his cowl down and Cisco had removed his glasses. Barry sat in one of the chairs with his feet up on the table, while Cisco appeared to be in the middle of reenacting something from their escapades. Cisco was the first to spot Caitlin. He threw out his arms dramatically.

"You should have seen it! Barry was all, 'You're so full of hot air,' and then this guy was like—" He made an exploding motion with his hands.

"Sorry we got sidetracked," Barry said, swiveling her direction. "We may have stopped for pizza on the way. But, look, we brought you some!"

He wore such a relaxed, happy expression that Caitlin didn't have the heart to say anything. But her silence, and the fact that she didn't move a muscle from her place in the doorway, drew his attention, sucked away the joy in his features.

"What's wrong?" he said, getting to his feet immediately.

Cisco too paled as he took in the sight of her. "Cait, are you bleeding?"

Caitlin looked down for the first time and saw that, yes, a thin red line trickled down her skin from the crook in her arm. She took in the sight numbly, looked back up. Lost. Barry registered her aimless appearance and sped forward, but the sudden movement made her flinch back violently.

Ashamed at the way her body betrayed her, she lifted a hand to her arm to staunch the bleeding.

"It was Eiling," she said. "Eiling was here. In STAR."

* * *

"He took your blood?" Iris said with a frown. "Why would he do that?"

Caitlin shrugged mutely. Barry and Cisco had somehow cajoled her into a chair, where she'd remained ever since. They'd also called over Iris and Joe, which Caitlin thought was frankly unnecessary, though she was too spooked to complain much. The pizza Barry and Cisco had brought back after the mission sat cold and forgotten on a side table.

"He wasn't just here for the blood, that much is clear," Barry said. "Eiling was here for Rose Canton."

"And you, probably," Joe pointed out. "It's a miracle you weren't here."

"If I was here, I could've stopped him," Barry said, his eyes flicking to Caitlin, his jaw tightening. "I'm a lot faster than I was last time."

"It doesn't matter," Caitlin said. "It's done. But I think he's still going after Canton."

"But why?" Joe said. "Why would he be going after her?"

"I don't know." Caitlin shifted. "But I received a text from her earlier today. She said she thought that someone was following her."

"She still texts you?" Joe practically bristled. To be fair, he'd been one of the least accepting of the fact that Caitlin had let Canton go. Probably due to the fact that he'd seen surveillance footage from the warehouse. That he'd been the one to storm that warehouse, twice. That he'd been the one to rescue Caitlin while Canton held a knife to her throat.

"I gave her my number for a reason," Caitlin said. "The fact that she _did_ text me tells me that she was legitimately concerned last night."

Iris frowned. "You think some of Eiling's men were following her?"

"I think that she's in trouble," Caitlin said. "And I think that it's our responsibility to stop Eiling from getting his hands on her."

"Looks to me like you're in trouble, too," Iris said. "He didn't want your blood for nothing."

"And how exactly are we supposed to stop Eiling from kidnapping Canton?" Barry said. "Keep a tracker on her at all times? Take her in, integrate her into the team?"

The sarcasm in his voice grated against Caitlin's skin. She shot him a look. "Be willing to help her. Just like we would any other metahuman who was under Eiling's thumb. Like Bette."

It was a low blow, she knew. But it had the desired effect. Subdued for the moment, Barry turned his eyes down and crossed his arms.

"So, you're just going to call her back, ask her to willingly come back to the place she was once imprisoned?" Cisco said. "Somehow I don't think she's going to buy that."

"We'll have to try," Caitlin said. "In the meantime, Joe, can you figure out if Eiling is still working officially with the military? Maybe find out where he's stationed?"

Joe huffed out through his nose. "I don't know how much I'll be able to find out," he said. "But I'll try." He pulled out his phone and strode out, apparently all-too-eager to leave what he considered a madhouse.

Caitlin watched him leave and chewed on a nail. Cisco, who was closest to her, reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Hey. It'll be alright. We'll get to the bottom of this."

"Maybe," Caitlin said. "All of this just gives me a really bad feeling."

"I think you'd be dead inside if it didn't," said Cisco. "But how many times have we had a bad feeling about something and overcome it?"

"I'm just tired of being taken by surprise in this place where we're supposed to be safe," Caitlin said. "I think that we—"

She was cut off by the vibrating of her phone on the desk. This time it wasn't just a text, but a continuous ring, cutting through the silence. Everyone in the room looked at it as if it might come to life. Certainly everyone was thinking the same thing: the only people who would normally call were currently in the room.

After the first three rings, Caitlin picked up the phone and looked at it.

 _Rose_.

With a glance up at everyone else, Caitlin hastily answered the call and put it on speaker.

"Rose?" she said. "Is everything okay?"

" _I'm in trouble_ ," came a staticky, breathless voice. " _Snow, I need help_."

"Where are you?" Caitlin demanded. "What's going on?"

" _They're here, they're—_ " It was clear that Canton was outside, and she was running. She panted into the phone, and the sound cut in and out sporadically. " _I can't, they're—wait!_ "

Shouts cut through Canton's panicked words, and Canton herself yelled in fear.

"Where are you?" Caitlin said. "Are you in the city?"

" _I'm—145_ _th_ _Avenue,_ " Canton said. " _Wait, stop, I—"_

There was a resounding crash that sounded suspiciously like phone hitting pavement; an extended scream; bootsteps. Caitlin looked up just in time to see Barry's eyes set with determination, and the sight sent her panicking.

"Barry, don't!" she said, reaching forward for his arm. But just as her hand wrapped around his forearm, it ripped away, and Barry was gone in a burst of speed. "No!"

More muffled sounds of struggle though the phone. A thud and a shout. Distressed, Cisco put his balled-up fists to his temples and Iris looked around, lost. The phone line cut out.

Joe chose that moment to come back into the room, phone in hand. The lines on his face made Caitlin's heart sink even more.

"I've got bad news," he said.

"Oh, there's more?" Cisco deadpanned.

The disastrous phone call, and Barry's rapid disappearance straight into the line of fire, might have been enough—but they also compelled Caitlin to ask, "What's the bad news?"

"I just spoke with the Chief," he said. "Do you remember when I told you that Jason had been transferred out of Iron Heights by higher-ups?"

Caitlin remembered the text message well; she also remembered not being fazed by it. Something told her now that she should have given it more attention. "Yeah. Again, what's the bad news?"

Joe clutched his phone, let out a heavy breath. "Jason wasn't transferred out of Iron Heights by just anyone. He was transferred out of Iron Heights and into Eiling's custody."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I appreciate any and all comments!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	3. Chapter 3

**Eiling's so fun, isn't he? Don't worry, you'll see a lot of him :)**

 **I keep forgetting to mention (and considered not mentioning at all), Harry is kind of absent from this fic? He's off doing his own thing. Sorry if you were waiting for him to show up!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

It was Cisco who sank into Caitlin's vacated chair, pinching the bridge of his nose, and it was Iris who spoke up first.

"Why would Eiling want Jason?" she said. "I mean, it's the same thing with Caitlin—obviously not a metahuman. I thought Eiling's M.O. was metahuman experimentation?"

"That's what it used to be, at least," Caitlin said. "Maybe he's…moved on?"

"But to what?" Joe said.

Cisco groaned, heels of his hands now pressed against his eyes. "This is so bad. So. Bad."

Caitlin privately had to agree. While she had no love for Jason, and would probably sleep better knowing he was dead, the thought of him in Eiling's hands didn't sit well. The idea of them as co-conspirators, further, seemed utterly implausible, but also unreasonably terrifying. Now that Jason knew about the anti-meta serum, and about Barry and Cisco's powers, he was a more dangerous asset to Eiling than ever.

As Caitlin considered this, silently feeling the distress that Cisco was outwardly projecting, Joe looked around the room. "Where's Barry?"

"We tried to stop him," Iris said. "He went after Rose and Eiling."

"Jesus." For the first time, Joe looked truly weak. Iris offered him a seat, which he refused.

"What do we do now?" Cisco said. "With…anything in this mess? I'm open to suggestions."

"Barry's comm," Caitlin said. Miraculously, improbably, the overload of stress hit a reset button in her brain. "We can get in touch with him. Figure out what's going on there."

"Right, good." Cisco swiveled his chair, but before his hand had even made it to the computer mouse, the need for communication was cut.

In a sputtering of gold lightning, Barry appeared in the doorway, tripping to the ground and skidding the rest of the way into the cortex on his side. He lost momentum near the wall, the material of his suit squealing against the tile. With a growl, he rammed his fist into the ground and levered himself to his knees shakily.

"What—" Caitlin said, but it was then that she saw the blood dripping to the cortex floor. "Barry, don't move."

She was across the room like a shot. Barry had gotten himself to a sitting position on the floor, his leg extended in front of him. "Oh, no worries, wasn't planning on it."

Iris also dipped to her knees beside Caitlin. "Barry, what happened?"

"Um." Barry flinched violently away from Caitlin's examination. Long, deep gashes ran from his hip down to his ankle, the whole left leg of his suit shredded. Caitlin frowned. The cuts were ragged, clearly not made by a knife. "Eiling had a new toy."

"Doesn't look like the fun kind," Cisco said. He and Joe had gathered awkwardly at the edges of the group.

"What made these cuts?" Caitlin said. The cuts, while fairly deep, would heal—Barry's accelerated healing had countered worse—but she began running over a list of procedures in her mind.

"Some kind of…" Barry grunted at a touch to his knee. "A weighted net."

"A net?" Cisco said incredulously. "What was it made of? Butcher knives?"

Barry shot him a sardonic look. "Barbed wire." He flinched. "Ow, Cait, that hurts."

"Barbed wire," Caitlin breathed. "That's what Jason used to restrain you once he knew you were the Flash."

"Trust me, I remember." Barry's brows knit. "Wait, what does Jason have to do with this?"

"We have reason to believe he might be working with Eiling," Joe said. "Eiling was the one who transferred him out of Iron Heights."

"This day just keeps getting more fun," Barry muttered. "Listen, I barely got away from that net. I'm lucky it just caught me in the leg—if I'd been completely caught under it, I'm not sure there's anything I could've done. Whatever truce we had with Eiling, it's off."

Caitlin lifted her now-bloody hands and unconsciously brushed back her hair. "And Rose?"

His mouth tightened. "They took her. I'm sorry, I ran. I should've stayed…"

"No," Caitlin said firmly. "Look at this. If you stayed you would've gotten yourself killed. Or worse."

"Probably worse." Cisco crossed his arms. "So, Eiling has Jason and Canton." He made a breathy noise like a scoff. "The tables have turned, haven't they?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that they're getting a taste of their own medicine, aren't they?" Cisco said.

Caitlin turned completely to face him. "Cisco, that's an awful thing to say."

"Hey, did I say I liked it?" Cisco said defensively, throwing up his hands. "I'm just saying. It wasn't too long ago that I couldn't see properly out of my left eye, that Barry couldn't walk. Eiling has Canton and Jason now. We know how nightmarish Eiling is. What are we supposed to do? Risk our lives for the people that tortured us?"

"We don't have to make any rash decisions," said Joe. "Whatever Eiling wants, something tells me we're going to know about it sooner or later."

"And something tells _me_ that Eiling's not going to be in his old hiding place," Barry said. "I can start searching the city."

"Not like this, you can't," Caitlin said. "We need to get your leg cleaned up. Then you need to focus on healing while we figure out our next course of action."

"Wouldn't be a bad idea for you either," Iris said quietly, squeezing Caitlin's shoulder.

Caitlin didn't acknowledge the motion, but she didn't brush it off either. She grasped Barry's boot firmly and resolved not to think too far ahead just yet. "Maybe. Someone help me get him up."

* * *

An hour later, once Caitlin had cleaned Barry up and stitched up the worst of his cuts, she sat on a cot in her workroom and fiddled with the Band-Aid on her arm. The puncture mark from the syringe was relatively small, and it didn't bleed much, but Cisco had insisted on "patching it up." Still, in just an hour, she had already toyed with it enough to leave it hanging by a thread.

A soft knock in the doorway heralded the arrival of Iris. She knew better than to take Caitlin by surprise, especially at a time like this. "Hey."

Caitlin dropped her hand. "Hi."

"What's up?" Iris replied, somewhat lamely. She realized the ridiculousness of the question as Caitlin did. She cringed as Caitlin raised her eyebrows.

"Nothing much," Caitlin said. "Just hanging out. Trying to decide if we should rescue a woman who once held me at knifepoint. The usual stuff."

"Yeah, there's probably a TED Talk somewhere about this very situation," Iris said. "Can I come in?"

"Of course." Caitlin scooted over on the cot to make room for Iris. Iris' warmth, her weight, settled on the flimsy mattress. "Are you okay?"

"It's not great," Iris said. "Knowing that Eiling is back out there. I know I wasn't _around_ the first time you faced him, but I saw him during the Grodd incident. This is bad, isn't it?"

Caitlin nodded. "He's smart and ruthless, which is a terrifying combination. He experiments on metahumans and designs high-functioning weapons to specifically target their weaknesses. The first time, we spent half an hour digging three-inch-long metal spikes out of Barry's skin."

Iris winced. It occurred to Caitlin that there was a lot that Iris didn't know about those few months when she'd been kept in the dark.

"Any ideas of how to stop him?"

"He's just a man," Caitlin said, rubbing at her eyes. "It should be so easy. But it isn't."

Iris paused. "So what are you thinking about?"

Caitlin rested her hands back in her lap, willing herself not to pick at the Band-Aid anymore. It was clear Iris had already noticed it, but there was no need to draw extra attention. "I'm just thinking about how similar this all feels to last month. My déjà vu is so bad it's making me dizzy."

"I think it is for all of us," Iris said gently. "But I think we're also grateful that we have you here this time. You and Cisco and Barry."

"That's the thing," Caitlin said. "I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. I'm trying to feel relieved that it wasn't—that it wasn't any of us who were taken. And maybe I shouldn't care about any of it."

"There's no one way you're supposed to feel right now," Iris said. "You're not a robot who is programmed to emulate specific emotions at specific times."

"She kidnapped us," said Caitlin, fixing her gaze out the door, across the cortex, on the door of the med bay where Barry lay recovering. "She let Jason torture us. She just watched. She injected me with a serum that had the potential to kill me."

Iris let these words soak in silence. "And yet you feel empathy for her."

"I don't know."

"You let her go when you had every right to keep her locked up in that pipeline," Iris said. "It's a decision that—that I'm not sure I entirely understand yet. But that's who you are, Caitlin. You've suffered so much loss, and yet you have one of the greatest capacities for empathy I've ever seen."

"I'm not the only one who's suffered loss," Caitlin said sharply, looking back to Iris. "Maybe it's not empathy. Maybe it's irrationally."

"Who ever said those two were mutually exclusive?" said Iris, and she squeezed Caitlin's hand gently for reassurance.

"It would be stupid, wouldn't it?" Caitlin said. "To face Eiling again just to rescue her?"

Iris contemplated this. Offered her a tiny, almost-sad smile. "Some might say irrational."

Caitlin considered a moment more. The conflict was written across Iris' face so clearly, but it was also obvious that her words were honest. That alone, that confirmation, was all that Caitlin needed.

"Alright," Caitlin said. "Thank you. As usual." She released Iris' hand and vaulted off of the cot. Determined now, she led Iris out of the room and into the cortex. Sensing her energy, Barry sat up in his bed, and the others lingering in the cortex turned toward her as well.

"Caitlin," Joe said. "Some of us are getting ready to turn in for the night. Can we take Barry home to rest or do you want to keep an eye on him?"

"No, the healing's going to be fairly simple," Caitlin said. "He should be fine in a few hours. Being at home will probably do him good. We'll need rest, because tomorrow we get to work."

There was a short, scratchy silence. Caitlin sensed Iris shift behind her. Barry slid off of the cot and leaned heavily on the doorframe.

"We're going after them, aren't we?" he said. "We're going after Eiling and Jason."

"I'm going after Canton," Caitlin clarified, suddenly aware of just how much attention was focused on her. That kind of intensity had never scared her before now. "To rescue her. And if Eiling and Jason get in the way, then so be it."

Joe ran a hand over his mouth. "This is going to be dangerous."

"Which is why I'm not asking you to help." Caitlin took a deep breath. "Canton is my responsibility. She has been since I let her out of the pipeline. I know a lot of you didn't agree with what I did. And that's why this is on me. Barry and Cisco—both of you are metahumans. We saw with Jason how much danger that label holds. Especially if Eiling is involved."

"And you think he'll spare you since you're not one?" Cisco said.

"No." Caitlin shrugged. "But I'll take whatever risks necessary."

"Let me stop you right there," Cisco said. "You're not going after Eiling alone. You don't really think that we would let you do that?"

Caitlin paused, cocked ahead. "No," she said again. "But I wanted to give you an option out."

"Or an option to try to talk you out of it?" Joe said.

"'Try' being the operative word." She looked around the room almost hesitantly at the expectant faces. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"Saving people is what we do," Barry said. "I don't see any reason why we should start being selective about who we save."

Caitlin nodded. "Okay. We're agreed. Tomorrow we get to work."

A tension released in the space, but at the same time it was filled by a new, weighty sense of importance—the precipice overlooking a great, wild expanse. Caitlin breathed it in, watched the others swallow back their anxiety.

Joe was the first to speak. "We're giving Cisco a ride home," he said. "Figure it's best not to travel alone right now. Want a lift?"

"I'm fine," Caitlin said, shouldering the imminent protest with ease. "I have my car. I'll be careful. I'm just going to tidy up a few things here."

Joe gave her a look. "Are you sure?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said firmly. "Cisco, want to meet here in the morning to start digging?"

Cisco gave a weak, half-hearted salute. "I'm all yours, boss."

Iris joined him at the door to the med bay to help Barry limp out. Joe's gaze lingered on Caitlin a moment more, likely feeling the same déjà vu that she was, before he exited the room as well.

Alone at last, Caitlin took a deep breath to ward off the uneasiness that the new open space gave her. As a precaution, she flipped on a few extra lights, as if that might ward off the fear spirits.

Then she sat down at the cortex table, booted up a computer, and cracked her knuckles. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment on your way out!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	4. Chapter 4

**No new warnings this chapter, though questionable medicine rears its ugly head. I did...a lot of googling for some of the terms used here, but inevitably a lot of it is still going to be off. Bear with me.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

If there was a record for number of times startled by a ringing phone in twenty-four hours, Caitlin certainly would have held it. The vibration was too close to her face, too sharp-sounding. Caitlin jerked awake, disoriented. Her arm muscles cramped. A crust of drool stuck to her cheek. Her foot banged against the edge of the metal cot she had fallen asleep on, and that sound alone oriented her. Sometime in the night she'd decided to take a rest there, and, from the stiffness in her muscles, it seemed as if she hadn't stirred an inch from her curled-up position.

As she reached to answer her phone, she glanced at the time. 9 am. She couldn't remember exactly when she'd elected to take her break in the middle of the night, but she felt as if she'd been asleep for years.

"Hey, Joe," she said, alarmed at the morning scratchiness in her voice. "What's up?"

" _Where are you_?" came Joe's voice. Even through the phone, it sounded taut like stretched wire.

"I'm..." Caitlin cleared her throat. "I'm at STAR."

" _Did you—did you sleep there last night_?" Joe said. " _Caitlin, you—never mind. We have a bit of a problem_."

Caitlin swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slid her bare feet into the carelessly discarded heels on the floor. "What's wrong?"

" _It's Barry_ ," Joe said, and those two words on their own sent a jolt of panic through Caitlin's system, shocking her fully awake. " _I don't know what's wrong with him. He's having trouble moving_."

"What?" Caitlin said.

" _I don't know—just get over here. Fast_."

Caitlin stumbled to her work station and rifled through the contents of the drawers. "I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Joe hung up without a goodbye. Caitlin shoved her phone into her pocket and dumped as many supplies as she could into her purse. Even though some of what she was gathering probably would never be useful, it was better to go in prepared for anything. It was one of the things she had learned from her reluctant position as a superhero's personal physician.

Once she had packed up the requisite supplies, she marched into the cortex and reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

 _Cisco,_

 _Change of plans. Going to Wests'. Be back later._

 _Cait_

She set the paper on top of the keyboard, along with a granola bar; Cisco was notorious for forgetting to eat when he was stressed out. Satisfied that her setup would be enough for the time being, she slung a jacket over her shoulder and strode out, not even bothering to turn off the lights behind her.

* * *

"Thank God," Joe said. "Sorry for being so brusque on the phone."

"No need," Caitlin said, shouldering her way inside the house, noting Joe's briefcase lying haphazardly on the floor, one shoe on his foot and the other cast off nearby. "What's happening?"

Joe closed the door behind her and tracked her gaze to the discarded items. "Sorry. I was just on my way to work when Iris found Barry. She's up with him now."

Caitlin was off like a shot toward the stairs, Joe trailing behind her. Even in her heels, she took the stairs two at a time. The morning haze had completely cleared from her eyes, and she saw the path clearly lit before her.

Barry's bedroom door was ajar, so Caitlin pushed her way inside without so much as a knock. Iris sat in a chair at Barry's bedside, but she rose at Caitlin's entrance. Barry lay in the bed, breathing shallowly.

"I found him like this," Iris said. Her hands shone red with blood. "It's like he's…paralyzed, or something."

A closer look at Barry was like putting together a particularly troubling puzzle. He appeared fully cognizant, his eyes tracking her as she moved closer, but they were fearful eyes. One hand lay curled on his chest, the other balled at his side. It looked as though Iris had peeled back the bandages on his leg—that would explain the blood. While much of the damage had healed, the larger lacerations still wept crimson, and spidery blue lines spread out across his skin around the cuts.

Caitlin took all of this in in the blink of an eye. Processed it. Moved on. From out of her purse, she drew a blood sampling kit. She took Iris' place in the bedside chair and placed a hand on Barry's arm.

"Barry, can you hear me?" she asked, trying her best to blend tenderness and firmness in equal measure.

With alarming slowness, Barry's lips moved. "Yeah."

"I'm going to take some blood, okay?" She took his sluggish blink as consent and swabbed the crook of his arm clean. "You can't move? At all?"

His next words were preceded by tension in his jaw, an obvious effort. "A…little." As if to demonstrate, he flexed the fingers on his left hand at an agonizing pace. "'s…better."

Caitlin concentrated on collecting her blood, but once the syringe was full, she looked back at Barry. The fear in his eyes was primal, raw. She knew how much he hated being trapped—small spaces, restraints, confinement had always been panic-inducing, so it wasn't a stretch to imagine what he must have been feeling trapped in his own body. In an attempt to soothe him, she rested her hand on top of his. "It's alright. I'm right here. We'll get this figured out."

She didn't have the depth of technology she might've at STAR, but Cisco had been a marvel at retrofitting their portable devices. She allowed herself to break from Barry while she set up her laptop and hooked up the proper equipment.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Joe lingered near the door, looking unsure of his place. He might have looked ridiculous, standing there with one shoe and a suit jacket half-on, in the right circumstances.

"I just need to run this blood scan," Caitlin said. "See those blue lines on his leg? I have an idea—"

The computer dinged, and Caitlin scanned over the results. The more she read, the further her brows knit.

"Just like I thought," she said. "There's a drug in his bloodstream. A strong paralytic, infused with…" She looked up from the screen at Joe and Iris. "With the serum I helped Canton and Jason create."

"But what…" Iris visibly swallowed. "What does that mean?"

"I think it was on the barbs of that net," Caitlin said. "It was designed so that once Barry was out of the net, he wouldn't be able to make a getaway."

"And it confirms that Jason is in league with Eiling," Iris said grimly. "How else would Eiling know about the serum?"

"Christ," Joe said. "This is worse than I thought. Do you think he's planning on continuing Jason's work? You know, spreading that serum around to all of the metas?"

Caitlin bit her lip. "It doesn't seem like his usual prerogative. But I could be wrong."

"Okay." Joe cleared his throat. Barry clenched and unclenched his fingers slowly. "What do you need from us? I mean, you can help Barry, yeah?"

"I've brought a few things that might help," Caitlin said. "But I think ultimately he will burn it off himself, just like the last time he got injected with that serum. It can't have been a large dose, not coated on the barbed wire like it was." Her hand went automatically back to Barry's arm, subconsciously feeling for his pulse. "You two go to work. I'll stay here until Barry's back in shape."

"But—"

"Go," Caitlin said resolutely. "I don't have a boss to report to, and, besides, there's not much to do but wait. I'll call both of you if anything changes."

Joe still looked unsure, but Iris sighed. "She's right, Dad. Come on, you're going to be late. And you'll need to cover for Barry with Singh."

"Right," Joe said. "Severe allergies again?"

"We both know that's a lame excuse," Iris said. "You might as well say he has Ebola."

Joe grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "maybe I will" before turning out of the room. Iris moved to the bed and rubbed Barry's good leg.

"You get some rest," she instructed. "Listen to Caitlin, and don't push yourself. I'll be back as soon as I'm off work." To Caitlin, she mouthed a soft, sincere, "Thank you." Then she too was out the door. Reluctantly.

Caitlin waited for the door to close downstairs before reaching for her phone and typing off a quick message:

 _Change of plans. Barry's sick. Long story. Everything's fine. Start without me._

"Just letting Cisco know." Caitlin gestured with her phone. "I left him a note at STAR, but figured he'd like an update." She set down the phone and rifled around in her bag for a new syringe. "I'm going to give you an anticholiner—" She paused, recognizing the confusion even in Barry's immobile state. "Something to help counter whatever muscle-inhibitor you've been dosed with. I'm afraid the best we can do, though, is wait. It may take a few hours.

She prepped this new drug, and Barry managed, "You?"

"Brought a book," Caitlin said, sliding the needle into Barry's arm. "Don't worry about me. I can read to you, if you'd like." A long groan. "Or not. It's probably best if you try to sleep, anyway. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

"'m…good." Barry moved his right arm down to his side as Caitlin finished administering her drug. "Peachy."

"You should take your own advice sometime." Caitlin placed the empty syringe on the bedside table and offered a smile. "You don't always have to be okay. Just remember, I'm right here. If you are having any more trouble breathing, or if the stiffness gets worse, let me know. If you sleep, though, the healing should seem quicker."

Reluctantly, it seemed, Barry conceded by closing his eyes. Whether or not he would actually sleep was unclear, but it soothed Caitlin's nerves somewhat to see him closing his eyes. She wouldn't actually admit it to him, but it was unnerving seeing him lying so still with his eyes open. Like a corpse.

As soon as she was sure he was at least attempting sleep, Caitlin shimmied off of the chair to the floor. She'd never used to consider herself a floor-sitter, but lately she'd found it somewhat calming. With her back pressed securely against the wall and the door firmly in her sights, she checked her phone one more time—no messages yet—before exchanging it for her book.

It was a cheap paperback, likely forgettable, mindless, predictable. Caitlin clutched it like the comfort it was and dove in head-first.

* * *

"Okay, two more steps. One…two. There you go. All the way down the stairs."

"Barry Allen: miracle of human evolution, able to walk down one flight of stairs," Barry jibed. He clutched Caitlin's arm in a veritable death grip as they crossed the entryway to the living room. While his movement was much better, he walked at a shuffle, grimacing with each slow step.

"Does it hurt?" Caitlin asked. "To move?"

"Not necessarily," Barry said, his jaw still too stiff for his usual inflections. "I guess it's more…burning. Wading through that burning after a really terrible workout. Am I talking slowly? I feel like I'm talking slowly."

"Better than you have been," said Caitlin, though admittedly in the time it had taken Barry to get the words out, they had made it all the way to the couch. "Here's a calorie bar for you to start with. What else would you like to eat?"

"Anything and everything please," Barry said. He sagged against the cushions and awkwardly tried to rearrange a blanket over his legs.

Caitlin stepped around the corner into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets. Soup, pasta, bread, spices, beans, oatmeal. In her current state, the options were overwhelming. She opted for the easiest option. One box of pasta went into a pot of water, high heat.

On her way back to the cupboard, her eye caught the clock. Already almost five o'clock. Though she'd made it through her entire paperback, and taken a nap besides, it hadn't occurred to her that it might be that late. No wonder Barry was so hungry.

From the counter she picked up a banana and carried it back out to Barry. "Pasta's on the stove. Have something healthy first."

He still hadn't managed to unwrap his calorie bar, so she peeled the banana before handing it to him. He accepted it and nodded at her barely-stifled yawn. "Did I hear that you slept at STAR last night?"

"I took a nap up in your room."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"I didn't intend to stay there all night," Caitlin insisted feebly. "I meant to go home after starting some research on Eiling. I just needed to rest my eyes and…well…"

"Cait," Barry groaned.

"I know, I know," Caitlin said, perching on the arm of the couch. "It was stupid. I just want to be able to do something."

"I know you do," Barry said. "And we will."

The sound of a key being inserted into a lock alerted both of them to the front door opening. Still somewhat on edge, Caitlin kept her eyes fixed on it until Iris stepped through.

"Everything alright?" the woman said, locking the door behind her. She took in the scene with apprehension, as if scared she might discover a dead body or something equally horrifying. Barry blinked up at her with slow eyelids.

"Lots of improvement," Caitlin said. "Whatever this serum mixture was, it was potent. Barry's still not fully functioning."

"So you've been here all day?" Iris frowned. "Have you found out anything more about where Rose is being held?"

"Haven't had much of a chance," Caitlin said. "I don't have nearly the resources here that we do at STAR, and I've never been one much for hacking."

"Has Cisco found anything?"

"Not that I know of," Caitlin said. "He would've called if he'd gotten any leads."

"Well, we'll keep looking." Iris tossed her bag down on the couch. "My dad should be home in about an hour, then you can head to your place, if you'd like. We can handle Barry from here."

"I'm half-paralyzed, not deaf, you know," Barry said. "I can hear you."

"And I can see you," Iris said, ruffling Barry's hair as she passed. "You're still not your normal self."

"My normal self would be kicking Eiling's sorry ass right now," Barry grumbled, biting mutinously into his banana.

Caitlin and Iris exchanged amused glances. "So," Caitlin began, re-settling on the arm of the couch and watching Iris shrug out of her coat, "how was work?"

Before Iris could answer, the question was punctuated by three sharp raps on the door. All of them froze, the sound transfixing them. The dusky light from the windows seemed to grow darker.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Barry asked them both.

Caitlin and Iris' eyes locked once again. Caitlin opened her mouth to speak.

Then the door burst in at the hinges.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! One more week until the new season!**

 **And, as always, I so appreciate any and all comments! (Even if it's just to tell me how wrong my slim medical knowledge is.)**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	5. Chapter 5

**You know that emoji with the big toothy grin that looks slightly guilty? That's how excited I am about this chapter.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Caitlin launched off of the arm of the couch and took a stand in front of it, in front of Barry. Iris similarly leapt into action, diving for her purse and planting herself in front of Caitlin.

The door banged against the wall, shaking the house on its foundation. Through the doorway stepped Eiling, jarring Caitlin to her core.

"Get out," Iris said immediately. "Now."

"Am I interrupting something?" the General said smugly. "It was my impression that you were having a nice, quiet lie-in at home." He tilted his head slightly in order to look past Iris and Caitlin to Barry on the couch. Iris moved to block his view.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," she said. "I said get out."

"Do you treat all of your houseguests like this?" Eiling said.

"Generally we don't have houseguests as rude or ugly as you," Iris said. "We make exceptions."

"Oh, I don't plan to stay long," Eiling said. "I've got a car waiting. Mr. Allen, Ms. Snow, if you would please join me outside."

"Like hell," Barry said. He started to get up, but Caitlin pushed him back down.

"You're delusional," Caitlin told Eiling. "We know you took Rose Canton. Give it up."

"Let me rephrase that," Eiling said. "I _strongly_ suggest that you and your fast little friend join me outside, or I will have to use force. I don't want to do that, believe me. But I have a dozen men just outside this house who will."

His boots clunked on the hardwood floor with each step. Caitlin's hand tightened on Barry's shoulder. She wondered if he could conjure up enough adrenaline to whisk them out of there. Probably not; and, besides, even if he could, he wouldn't be able to carry both Caitlin and Iris at the same time. Not to mention the fact that Eiling likely had more speed-traps ready at the touch of a button.

There was nowhere else to go.

Then, in a blink, Iris' hand dove back into her purse. With a steady hand and a trained resolve, Iris withdrew a gun and leveled it at Eiling's face. The man stopped in his tracks.

"Maybe I'm not making myself clear," Iris said. "Out. Now."

Eiling faltered, if only slightly, but turned it quickly into a smirk. "Look at you, the femme fatale after my own heart. Are you sure you know how to use that?"

Iris lowered her arms, pulled the trigger. A bullet hole opened up in the hardwood, inches from Eiling's feet.

"Pretty sure, yeah," she said coldly, and raised the gun eye-level once more.

"Ah, cop's daughter," said Eiling, lifting a finger condescendingly but stopping in his tracks all the same. "I don't suppose you ever had any interest in joining the military?"

"I'm going to give you ten seconds before I shoot you in your slimy mouth," Iris said. "I wonder what will happen first: that, or the entire police force showing up at the doorstep to take you down?"

Eiling raised his eyebrows, apparently impressed. "A silent alarm system?"

Iris didn't give any confirmation, but Caitlin glanced over at her purse again. Sure enough, the silent alarm beacon Cisco installed on all of their phones was flashing red at the top of the bag.

"Alright, here's how this is going to go," Eiling said. "You have one gun. I have one dozen. My men could kill you and take in Mr. Allen and Ms. Snow by force before my dead body hit the floor."

To Caitlin's discomfort, his eyes flicked to her.

"However," he continued, "I would prefer not to make a scene in such a lovely neighborhood. And I would prefer that everyone, myself included, remain undamaged. At least, for now. I suspect that in time we will be able to have a civilized conversation and come to some sort of agreement."

"I highly doubt it," Caitlin said icily.

Eiling smirked. While Caitlin couldn't say she'd ever found him uplifting, the expression knocked her confidence surprisingly askew all the same. "Maybe a few days," he said. "Be expecting my call."

Iris' arms tensed. Eiling held up his hands in mock surrender. One last look at Caitlin, at Barry, then he was gone. The door remained ajar, the dusk outside now absolute.

Once the sound of squealing tires was dispelled, Iris finally lowered the gun.

"Check outside, make sure all of them are gone," she instructed Caitlin. "I'm calling my dad. Eiling might be going to STAR if Cisco's there."

The thought caused a swooping sensation in Caitlin's stomach, but she complied without comment. Staying close to the wall, Caitlin edged toward the windows and drew back the curtains. Sure enough, all of the military vehicles that had surely been parked outside a minute before were gone. She had to give Eiling that—he didn't leave a trace.

"Yeah, dad," Iris was saying into her phone. "Calm down. I'm fine. We're all fine. Listen, I need you to go to STAR. Cisco should be there, and you need to get him out. Eiling might be going there next. Yes. Yes, he was here. No, we're _fine_. Okay. See you soon."

Caitlin drew the curtains tight once more and shut the door. Based on how easily Eiling had broken it in, it was probably useless to lock it again, but she did so anyway. It provided the illusion of safety, at least. With the house secured and isolated again, the rattling and whistling of an over-boiling pot suddenly dominated the space. Caitlin, Iris, and Barry remained motionless, a still, quiet, tense exchange that needed no words.

"I'll get it," Iris finally said, softly. "Call Cisco."

Iris disappeared into the kitchen to stifle the screaming pot. Barry lowered the remainder of his banana to the couch, looking sick. Caitlin fumbled for her phone and hit the first button on her speed dial.

"I can go after him," Barry said lamely. "I can probably get my speed back up to…" He trailed off even before Caitlin could stop him.

With each ring of the phone, Caitlin paced a little faster. When the ominous Imperial March theme of Cisco's voicemail started playing, she planted herself on the couch.

"Cisco," she said. "When you get this, leave STAR immediately. Eiling's on the prowl. We're going to be staying put tonight. Please lie low."

She swallowed hard and hung up the phone but kept it clutched in her hand. Even with the call made, she didn't move from her perch on the couch.

She only looked up at Iris' entrance. The other woman stood in the entryway to the dining room, arms crossed, clearly trying to look casual but failing. "Anyone want pasta?"

But the question was met with quiet. And, again, they all understood.

* * *

The rattling of Joe's keys in the lock startled Caitlin so much she unconsciously moved for Iris' gun, which remained in arm's reach on the coffee table. The movement jostled Iris and Barry as well—while there were plenty of seats in the living and dining room, the three of them had crowded together on the couch for comfort.

"It's just me," Joe said. "Just me."

Caitlin and Iris stood immediately, Barry somewhat more slowly.

"Cisco?" Caitlin asked.

Joe held up his hands. "He must have gotten your message. STAR was empty, and his bike wasn't outside. I would've gone to his apartment, but I wanted to get home to you."

Caitlin nodded. "Thanks for checking."

"Of course," Joe said. "So, Eiling was here? Not that I'm complaining, but why did he leave you…unscathed?"

"Iris may have threatened him," Barry said. "Sounded like he didn't want to make things messier than they had to be."

"Yeah, he said he would give us a call in a few days," Caitlin said with a frown. "Whatever that means."

Joe planted his hands on his hips and nodded, clearly as puzzled as they were. "Okay. We'll figure this out. For now, there's no way you're going back to your place alone, Caitlin. Iris, do you have something she could wear to sleep in?"

"Of course," Iris said. "I'll make up a bed on my floor."

"And I'll make one on mine for Cisco, if he makes it over," Barry said. "Although it's probably safer if he doesn't travel alone."

"Fine, good." Joe, distracted, stationed himself in one of the chairs. "Barry, you feeling better?"

"Almost completely," Barry said. "That serum was a whammy, though. Eiling's serious this time."

"Like he wasn't last time?" Caitlin said, raising her eyebrows. Barry dipped his head in concession

"How do we stop him, though?" Iris said. "Especially now that he has Rose and Jason?"

Caitlin set her jaw, shrugged. "I guess we wait for his call."

* * *

Caitlin woke up the next morning with a pervasive cloud of dread in her gut. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling, wondering why she felt like she could throw up any minute. Her bones creaked when she shifted on the floor, and that alone reminded her of her precarious footing. She rolled to her side, her legs tangled in the quilt, and reached for her phone.

No messages. No missed calls. No voicemails.

She levered herself to her knees and reached for Iris' arm. The other woman was face-down in bed, breathing deeply. Part of Caitlin felt bad disturbing her, when they all needed so much rest, but her dread compelled her.

After only a few seconds of shaking, Iris sucked in a breath and lifted her head. She squinted at Caitlin. The sleep crusted to her eyes, her face momentarily smoothed by the obliviousness of slumber.

"What's up?" she said. "Is something wrong?"

"Cisco still hasn't contacted me," Caitlin said. "I've sent him five texts. Two voicemails. I know he's bad about responding to messages, but this is unusual."

Iris pushed herself up to a sitting position. "Have you checked Barry's room yet? Do you think Cisco could've come here after we went to bed?"

"It's possible," Caitlin said, but her heart reminded her that possible didn't mean true. "I'll check. Can you wake your dad?"

"Sure." Iris, bless her, vaulted out of bed as if she hadn't just been shaken awake from a deep sleep. "What time is it?"

Caitlin checked her phone. "Eight."

And almost a full twenty-four hours that she'd been at the West household. The weight sunk lower in her gut.

Iris disappeared down the hall toward Joe's room, and Caitlin padded toward Barry's. She paused outside of his door, listening for signs of life, staring at the lines in the oak. Tiny holes dotted the outside of the door, pinpricks where Barry had undoubtedly pinned up signs or pictures as a child to mark the room as his own. Such signs of habitation, of life, seemed exceedingly dangerous now. She wished she could erase herself, her friends, off of the grid, with no record of vibrant living for Eiling to track.

After another breath, she finally knocked and was met with a murmur of assent. Terrified of what she would find on the other side of the door, she pushed her way into the room.

Barry sat up in his bed, palming at his eyes. The mess of blankets and pillows he had set up on the floor lay empty, unused.

"Cisco never came," Caitlin said.

Barry looked down at the empty pile of blankets and blanched. "No." His mobility was back in full—sheets flew as he scrambled out of his own bed and launched himself toward the door.

Downstairs, Iris paced in the kitchen while Joe turned off the stove and put away a carton of eggs. Clearly he'd been in the middle of making breakfast, but by the look on his face, all of Caitlin's fears were confirmed.

"He's not down here either," Joe said. "Either he stayed at his place last night and hasn't looked at his phone, or…"

"Or what?" Caitlin said, though she knew the answer. "We need to check his place. Check STAR. It's possible he left his phone there when I told him to vacate."

"Right. That's probably what happened," Barry said, obviously clinging to whatever slim hope there was remaining. "My speed is back. I can go right now and be back in a minute."

"Take me with you," Caitlin said. "There's no way you're going alone."

"But Eiling is targeting you both," Joe said. "You can't both go."

"Joe." Caitlin's single word was enough to stall the other man. In the tenseness of the room, they all realized there was no room for further protest. Reluctantly, Joe nodded.

"If we're not back in ten minutes, well…" Barry winced, imagining the possibility. "Send in the cavalry."

Iris raised an eyebrow. "Which is?"

Barry shrugged. "You guys, I suppose."

Then he gathered Caitlin up in his arms and swept her away.

The sensation of being sped through the city would never cease to take Caitlin's breath away. Although it was only a few seconds, Caitlin felt as if an entire world passed through her vision. The lights, the color, the sound—it was all deafening in the best way possible. While she was always ready to be put back down to solid ground, she could understand why Barry might find it appealing to run for the rest of his life.

After that instant, a rush of warm air passed over her, and the landscape slowed. It took her a long moment of disorientation until she recognized that she was in the cortex at STAR, a still-empty cortex. Barry lowered her to the floor, and her head swiveled like an owl's.

"Place is deserted," Barry said, the two of them branching off to peek into different rooms connected to the cortex. "I can scour the rest of the building, but…"

They continued to look, their steps hesitant, their movements slow. Caitlin looked to the main console in the center of the room, trepidation building, and began walking toward it as if drawn by a magnet.

"I don't think there's any need," Barry continued. "Looks like Cisco hasn't come back."

"No." The apprehension crested, crashed. Caitlin reached the center console and reached out. "It looks like he never made it here." With shaking hands, she picked up the note she'd left on the table for him—and the uneaten granola bar that sat beside it.

* * *

 **Let the hell party begin! Thanks for reading, and thanks in advance for your outraged comments.**

 **Keep an eye out-the next chapter may be coming a bit earlier than usual!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	6. Chapter 6

**Surprise! Early chapter, because it's my birthday and I can do what I want. Plus, season premiere on Tuesday!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The breaths came fast and painful, glass embedded in her lungs. She didn't realize how much the air had closed in around her until Barry's presence punctured it.

"What do you mean, never made it here?"

"I left him this note," Caitlin said, her voice hiking an octave. "And this. He hasn't touched either of them. His phone's not here. He hasn't been—hasn't been answering—"

"Okay, let's breathe," Barry said with a hand to her shoulder. He was barely composed, she could tell, but working very hard to remain so. "Maybe he was here and didn't—wasn't hungry. Or maybe he hadn't left his apartment yet when he got your messages to stay away."

 _That sounds like a whole lot of maybes._ But, resigned to Barry's hope, Caitlin nodded. "Let's go, then."

They zipped away again, this time before Caitlin could even prep herself for takeoff. One second she was standing, the next in Barry's arms—and the next outside Cisco's apartment door, heart beating like a drum.

Barry set her down and she immediately reached for the Star Wars themed garden gnome that Cisco unbelievably kept by his doormat. "The spare key should be in here."

"No need," Barry said, and he pushed on the handle. The unlocked door swung open easily.

A momentary relief rushed warm in her blood at the sight of Cisco's orderly apartment. At least, as orderly as Cisco ever kept his apartment. Here and there lay scattered a crumb-dusted plate, or a book that was bookmarked by another book. His laptop sat open, but dark, on the coffee table. Cisco was nowhere to be seen, but if Caitlin had anticipated signs of a struggle, they weren't there.

She closed the door behind her and followed Barry deeper into the living area. No streaks of blood, no shattered glass. Not even a stove left burning, or a TV on. Exchanging a dubious look, the two of them ventured toward the hall, Cisco's tiny bedroom and bathroom.

"Cisco?"

Like the living area, the bedroom and bathroom were empty. The lamp beside his bed was still on, and the covers rumpled, but Caitlin had crashed on his couch enough to recognize both of those things as normal—he'd never been the most tidy person, and after the events of the past year he had a tendency to fall asleep with the lights on.

"No signs of forced entry," Barry said. "Or…forced exit."

Everything looked normal, sure, besides the unlocked door and Cisco's absence. "I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for all of this," Caitlin said. She glanced over at Barry. "Right?"

"Of course," Barry said. "C'mon, we'd better get back before our ten minutes are up."

Though Caitlin wanted to stay, perhaps wait for Cisco to return, she assented and allowed herself to be picked up again. While she couldn't process as quickly as Barry could, she could've sworn he did a lap of the area around the apartment complex before heading back.

When they skidded to a halt at the West household, Iris cornered them immediately, already peppering them with questions.

"He's not at either place," Caitlin cut her off. "But there are no signs of a struggle anywhere. Everything looks normal—except he probably never went to STAR."

There was no mistaking the hard bob of Joe's Adam's apple. "Okay, we'll take this one step at a time. You keep trying to contact him. When I get to the station I'll file a missing persons report. Get the police on it. You know they care about Cisco. I'm sure they'll do everything in their power."

"Everything in their power isn't enough if it's…if it's Eiling," Barry said. At the collective flinches around the room, he threw up his arms. "Listen, I'm not saying I like entertaining that idea either, but everyone is thinking it. If Eiling's somehow taken Cisco, we need to be prepared, and reasonable. The police aren't going to be able to do anything."

"We'll get them looking, at least," Joe said firmly. "The worst thing we can do right now is panic. That's what Eiling wants. Panic. Irrational thinking."

"What are we supposed to do, then?" Caitlin countered. "Just calmly go about our day?"

"Yes," Joe said. "You research, you reach out, you investigate. You wait. But you do it all with a _cool head_."

For whatever reason, the words grated. Caitlin huffed. "You know that's what I do best." She turned on a heel and marched for the stairs. "I'm going to get changed."

Once upstairs, she let her façade crumble and her emotions take over. She wasn't one for punching walls; instead, she placed her palms against the wall and ground in the heels of her hands, pushing so hard her arm muscles strained, savoring the solidity of an immovable object.

After a minute of this intense channeling, her forehead joined her hands flat against the wall. Pressing herself against it, she focused inward. In most stressful cases, she would build up walls herself, feel herself retreating into iciness. It was something she'd been more aware of lately, ever since the warehouse incident. In times like these, however, in very rare instances, she felt those exceptional traces of Ronnie: of fire and imminent combustion, too hot to sustain for long.

"Hey."

Caitlin tightened her muscles and pushed away from the wall at Barry's entrance.

"Don't you dare tell me that everything's going to be okay," she said.

Barry dug his hands in his pockets. It was somewhat ridiculous, Caitlin though, both of them standing in that hallway in their pajamas, with such grim expressions on their faces. "I wasn't going to."

Caitlin crossed her arms over her chest, shrugging in warmth. "It's been thirty-eight hours," she said. "Thirty-eight hours since we've seen him. He could've been taken thirty-eight hours ago and we never even knew he was gone. What if…" She swallowed the end of the sentence, feeling as though she might choke it back up regardless. She clutched at the fabric of the t-shirt, burying her fists in her armpits for warmth. Damp with sweat.

Barry blinked, and didn't say a word.

* * *

A day later, her phone finally rang.

It was suffocating, the anxiety, and it mounted with each hour without a trace of Cisco. She was suddenly conscious of her own heartbeat, drumming away relentlessly, easier to stop than time but equally as inescapable. She wanted it to pause for a moment, let in some silence, some calm, but it continued to thunder its loud, incessant reminder.

That wasn't to say the rest of the team wasn't as antsy as she was; Barry's barrage of ideas and questions alone were about enough to drive her up a wall.

One such interrogation on the day in question had her burying her hands in her hair.

"How about…finding the trajectory of Eiling's vehicle?" he was saying. "You know, traffic cameras, license plate numbers…"

"Yeah, there's got to be something around our house," Iris offered. "Cameras, I mean."

"Do I look like a computer engineer?" Caitlin said, more defeated than truly angry. "This was always…Cisco's specialty."

Saying it was like scraping a raw wound. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and leaned forward on the table.

"Sorry," she said. "I'm just…"

"No need to explain," Iris said. "We get it. We'll keep thinking."

Except that was what they had _been_ doing, Caitlin wanted to say. For hours upon hours. Barry and Iris had taken to sequestering themselves in STAR with Caitlin, the three of them figuring that safety, and brainpower, was best in numbers. It made Joe happy, anyway, that they were sticking together. If they weren't at STAR, they were often at Barry's lab—after all, work stopped for nobody, even though Cisco's disappearance had garnered some sympathy from Singh.

It was late in the day at STAR Labs, and Caitlin was just wondering if they should go back there to the police station to work on Barry's license plate hunch, when her phone rang.

Two of the three people who had called her in the last few days were sitting in the room with her; Joe's calls were usually routine updates, so she picked up her phone without hurry. But when she saw the caller ID, she nearly dropped it.

"It's Cisco," she said.

On nervous instinct, Barry leapt to his feet. Iris' spine went stick-straight in the chair. "Put it on speaker!"

Caitlin's finger was already on the button. She turned up the volume and white noise filled the cortex.

When nobody spoke, Caitlin took the initiative. "Cisco?"

Precisely two more seconds of silence. Then:

" _I told you to be expecting my call. Did you forget?_ "

Caitlin's blood ran cold. Every word, every thought, was ripped from her. Everything except: _oh, God, we were right_.

"Give him up, Eiling," Barry said, filling in where Caitlin left off. Iris made a motion for him to be quiet, but it was too late. "He's not the one you want."

" _Maybe not initially, but he's proven to be useful,"_ Eiling said. " _I had no idea you had another metahuman in your midst until I saw him fighting with you in the streets. A development that significant, I'm a little ticked you didn't call me."_

"I'm serious," Barry said. "Cisco's not one of your pet projects."

"And after everything you pulled last time, you are _not_ sanctioned—"

" _Ah, Ms. West. Glad to hear you're still part of this little conversation. Are you going to threaten to bring down the mighty press on me?_ "

"The thought's crossed my mind," said Iris. "I've also considered taking you apart limb by limb. Which sounds more appealing to you?"

" _I'll make this quick_ ," Eiling said. " _You know what I want. Mr. Allen, you're a noble man. Surely you'll give yourself up to save your friend's life._ "

Caitlin reached for Barry's wrist, but it was too late. Her prediction came true: he opened his mouth and said, "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You're _not_ giving yourself up," Caitlin mouthed viciously. Barry ignored her.

" _Telling the truth about what?_ " Eiling jeered. " _That your friend's alive, or that I'll keep my word if you join me here?_ "

"Let us speak to him," Caitlin said. "So we know he's okay."

A pause on the other line. " _I'm afraid he's a bit tied up right now, but I can assure you he's in one piece. If you want him to remain so, I suggest you comply._ "

"Proof," Iris said. "There's no physical evidence that you even have Cisco in your custody. How do we know he's with you?"

" _Didn't make much of a scene._ " Eiling's voice trailed, became more absent. " _A little commotion in the alley outside of his apartment building, and the true-born hero came running straight into my arms. Couldn't resist the call of an innocent person in distress—I didn't even have to set foot in his building."_ Another pause, a bit of a shuffle. " _I hope this is enough proof._ "

Caitlin was about to ask what he meant, but before she could, her phone buzzed in her hand. The text was from a blocked number, but she opened it anyway.

A picture. Barry and Iris caught sight of it the same instant Caitlin did, visibly sucking in breath: a picture of Cisco, strapped to a chair, staring directly into the camera with bloodshot eyes. He appeared relatively unharmed, save for the massive bruise on his jaw and the startling amount of dried blood around his nose and mouth. Despite the lack of apparent injury, his overall appearance was rundown, greasy, unkempt. A pang of guilt sliced through Caitlin's gut.

" _Like I said a few days ago, we can do this the easy or the hard way_ ," Eiling continued. " _Mr. Allen, how would you like this to go down?_ "

None of them could move. Caitlin wanted to erase the image, smash her phone into pieces, but she couldn't. She couldn't do anything. None of them could do _anything_.

Barry gulped, fixated on the picture as they all were. "You give up Cisco and I'll come willingly."

"No," Iris hissed, but it was too late.

" _Oh, you misunderstood,_ " Eiling said. " _I never said I would give him up. I said I would let him live. You don't really think you're so valuable that I would sacrifice my newest asset to the useless STAR Labs?"_

At this, Barry looked up wildly at Caitlin and Iris. The desperation was clear, and it was evident that his walls were breaking down; he would do whatever Eiling asked. Caitlin took one look at him, her mind whirling with possibilities, with plans, and then she took to the phone again.

"Take me, too," she said, plunging the room into stillness with the three words. "A two-way exchange. Barry and me for Cisco and Rose Canton. You let them both go, and you get us. Surely that's fair."

Someone had a death grip on her arm now, but she was too focused on the phone to see who it was. Her heart was racing, but her voice remained remarkably level.

" _An interesting proposition,_ " Eiling said. " _I appreciate the proactivity. Unfortunately, it's not in my best interests to lose two of my most prized assets, even for STAR Labs' finest._ " A blunted sound came from his end of the line, fingers drumming on a table. A hitch for breath, for consideration. " _I'll tell you what, Dr. Snow. If you and Mr. Allen agree to join me here without incident, I'll give up one of the two. Canton or Ramon. I'll even let you make the call._ "

And that was it—the other shoe dropping.

For the first time, she looked up to the others for guidance, looking for an answer. Iris' face didn't provide it. She had a look that said, _This is your call._ But Caitlin didn't want to make the call. It should have been easy: her best friend or the woman who had once threatened his life. But another part of her continued to nag, as it had nagged for a month.

Wasn't Rose Canton equally as worth saving?

And which decision would Cisco resent more?

When she looked to Barry, she saw the answer already on his tongue. "Cisco," he said, without exchanging Caitlin's gaze. "Bring Cisco to STAR Labs. We'll go with you."

Caitlin could practically hear Eiling's smirk through the phone. " _When will you learn that your friendship is your weakness?_ " The sentiment was so similar to everything Jason had preached, a rush of déjà vu washed over Caitlin. " _So be it. I'll see you tonight. STAR Labs._ "

There was a click as he hung up the phone. Caitlin silently turned off her phone screen so the picture of Cisco disappeared. Again, a tremulous quiet hung in the air, awaiting someone to snap it. Then Barry jerked upright and slammed his palms flat on the table.

"I sure hope you have a plan."

"I do," Caitlin said.

But it was clear the emotions were running rampant. Barry paced restlessly and swiped an arm over his face. "He has Cisco. He's had Cisco for days."

"I _know_ ," Caitlin said. "So we're going to do something about it."

"What are you proposing?" Iris said. "Even Cisco isn't going to be happy about being back if you and Barry are both being ruthlessly tortured by Eiling in his place."

"I would also like to keep the ruthless torture to a minimum," Caitlin said, "which is why we're going to break out. From the inside. And taking Rose Canton with us."

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! More than halfway done now. If you're keen, please leave a comment below! See you on the other side (Wednesday).**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, last night was a doozy, wasn't it! I come to you in a vague haze of confusion and mixed emotions, but nonetheless ready for this chapter. I hope you are as well.**

 **Additional warnings for this chapter: more needles/forced injections, incredibly dubious science/plans.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

"Anytime," Joe said. "Any minute."

Caitlin never would've pinned Joe as the restless one, yet here he was, pacing so fervently he was in danger of carving a trench in the floor. Barry, usually the one to move impatiently, had assumed a tightly-wound stance behind a chair, knuckles white and muscles tensed like a bowstring. Iris was the only one who radiated calm, though her eyes betrayed her. They were the only part of her that ever did.

"Everything's in place," Caitlin said. "I have the knockout gas. Cisco may not be in a condition to help out, so Iris, you will have to activate it remotely on my signal."

The plan was simple—well, not simple, but simple enough given that they had only a few hours to come up with it. A powerful sleeping gas, one that they'd been working on for a few months as a possible non-dangerous way to stop out-of-control metahumans, contained in a canister the size of a lipstick tube. The contraption, for lack of a better hiding place, was tucked inside her bra.

If her assumptions were correct, she and Barry would be split up immediately upon reaching the facility: Barry for whatever experiments they wanted him for, Caitlin presumably for questioning regarding the anti-meta serum. Jason wouldn't have been able to describe the serum in full detail, given that Caitlin had given instructions to Canton.

Investigations into Eiling's old facility had revealed isolated rooms, much like prison cells, where Eiling's prisoners would be left during interim periods. With any luck, Caitlin would be kept in one of these, where she could safely release the sleeping gas before anyone was the wiser. All she needed to do was get the object into an air vent, where it could disperse to the rest of the facility. A button on the outside would send out a signal, simultaneously alerting the STAR Labs team to her location and allowing them to release the gas remotely, once the canister was safely within the air vents.

She had injected herself and Barry with an antidote to the gas, of course, but it would only last a few hours—and it was better not to release high concentrations of knockout gas at close range, anyway.

"Stay alert," Iris said. When she saw Caitlin chewing her lip, she reached forward and grabbed her arm. "Hey. I trust you. You'll be alright."

"Not gonna lie, there's a lot that can go wrong," Caitlin said. "And what if we can't find Canton?"

"Anything goes wrong, we'll get you out," Iris said, though it was unclear if _you_ included Canton. "We won't leave you there. I hope you know that."

"Of course," Caitlin said. However, the prospect of sitting alone in an isolated, cement cell with no way to mark the time—well, it wasn't reassuring. She thought of Cisco, sitting there, unsure if anyone knew he was gone or if anyone was coming. Sure, they'd all experienced that to some extent in the warehouse. But this was different. She had the feeling that if something went wrong and Eiling managed to keep her there for interrogation, it wouldn't just be days of captivity, but months.

Above all, Caitlin couldn't shake the feeling that she was somehow responsible for all of this, that she had unfairly coerced members of her makeshift family to subject themselves to something none of them could quite anticipate. She had been the one to let Canton go. Hell, she'd been _indecisive_ when Eiling had offered the choice between Canton and Cisco.

What had she become to allow that kind of thinking to fester inside of her? And what would she become if this mission failed and she sentenced Barry to a lifetime of Eiling's brand of horror?

In this burst of regret, she pulled Barry aside. He looked at her questioningly.

"You don't have to do this, Barry," she said in a lowered voice. He looked as though he might turn away, distracted, but she circled her fingers around his wrist. "I'm serious. We both know what they're going to do to you in there."

A hint of a smile ghosted over Barry's face. "I guess you'll just have to get me quick, then."

He extracted his wrist from her hand with a nod of understanding, of comfort. Then he turned back to the doorway. With her attention back on the immediate situation, she understood what his hyper-sensitivity had already catalogued: the military had arrived.

They certainly weren't trying to mask their entrance—Caitlin could hear them tramping through the building even from the cortex. The STAR Labs group readied themselves, Joe and Iris pulling out guns in case Eiling decided to make things difficult, Barry and Caitlin placing themselves slightly in front of the desk.

"It's go-time," Joe said unnecessarily. "We'll get through this. Just stay calm."

Caitlin swallowed. Even after everything they'd been through, the tension of an impending storm still made her throat close up. She felt the tips of her fingers go numb with anxiety.

Eiling was the first through the doorway, his stride confident, his stupid grin plastered across his face.

"Evenin'," he said, taking stock of each one of them in turn. He nodded up at Joe and Iris, who both had their guns trained on him. "I can see where she got her hospitality from."

"A deal's a deal," Joe said. "And we're making sure you hold up your end of it. Where's Cisco?"

"Oh, they're on their way," Eiling said. "Wanted to make a dramatic entrance, I suppose. The little engineer is dragging his feet a bit."

Caitlin could hear it now, though, the same rhythmic, cataclysmic march of boots. The fear surrounding the sound was so great, she couldn't determine how many people there actually were. It could have been two; it could have been a hundred.

The answer lay somewhere in between, though much closer to her first estimate. The group that rounded the corner was much the same as the one that had cornered her in STAR Labs before, three men—in fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if they were the same soldiers. In between two of them, practically dragged by the arms, Cisco lifted his head. Oily strands of hair stuck to the sides of his face, framing his tired, hollowed eyes.

Alarmingly, he looked almost a mixture of when he had been rescued from the warehouse and when he'd returned to STAR following his kidnapping by Snart. Physically, he looked to be in much better shape than after the warehouse, but the apparent exhaustion, limpness, inability to keep his feet was reminiscent of his condition then. More troubling was the resemblance to the Snart incident, which manifested itself mostly in the eyes—a reluctance to meet anyone's gazes, a beaten-down guilt that clouded his entire expression.

"Here," Eiling said, motioning for the soldiers to release Cisco. "A gift."

A hard shove to his back sent Cisco stumbling forward. Iris leapt forward to catch him, propping him up so he didn't collapse to the ground.

Temporarily forgetting the bargain that had been struck, Caitlin rushed over. Just making contact with Cisco lifted a huge weight from her chest; it had been so long since she'd seen him, felt the lifeblood warmth of his skin, confirmed that he was still breathing.

Then, as soon as it had been forgotten, the reality of their current situation rushed back. As much as she wanted to pull on her labcoat, take care of Cisco, make Cisco better, she was aware that her time was limited.

"Okay, Iris," she said, reaching absently for Cisco's pulse. "First things first, you're going to want to get him fed and hydrated. We keep a shock blanket in the bottom drawer of my desk. Look at me, Cisco."

She placed a hand on the man's forehead to try and tilt his head up, with the intention of checking his pupils. Instead when his gaze met hers, the sorrow in it gave her pause.

"They were hurting her," he croaked. "Cait, I'm sorry—I didn't—didn't know what to do, I'm sorry—"

"Shh, it's alright," Caitlin said. "You're safe. You don't have to apologize for anything." But, secretly, a thought unsettled her: _What do you have to be sorry for?_

"There, I held up my end of the bargain," Eiling said, and _yes, there was a bargain_ , and _no, we don't have time for any of this._

"Fine," Caitlin said. With one last nod, an attempt at reassurance, she let go of Cisco and lifted her hands in surrender. On the other side of the room, Barry did the same. "We'll come with you."

Eiling nodded, but she realized, too late, that it wasn't directed at her. She took a step forward. One of the soldiers, at Eiling's order, raised an industrial-looking gun. Before Caitlin's foot fully touched the ground, before she could hardly breathe, the muzzle flashed.

With his hands still raised in surrender, Barry was flung backward.

Caitlin's heel skidded on the floor in her haste to cross the room. Her elbow banged against the cortex table in time with Barry colliding with the wall. Joe's gun fired. A gun was fired in return. Screaming: Iris. Wailing: Barry.

"And here I thought we could do this without fuss." Eiling's words came through a tunnel, easily brushed off, easily ignored. It was in Caitlin's nature to have multiple points of focus, but also to set her mind to the most urgent: in this case, it was Barry, thrashing on the ground, tangled in a net of razor wire.

She hadn't seen the net itself when Barry had last encountered it, but she'd seen the damage it had caused. She dropped to her knees, reaching out her hands while maintaining her distance from the knife-sharp barbs.

"Barry, slow down," Caitlin said. "Moving is only going to make it worse. Try to stay still."

Almost entirely obscured by the tangle of wire, Barry continued twitching, then gradually stilled. It was hard to see much of him, but hard also to miss the spatters of blood now decorating the once-pristine white floor.

"Why?" was all Caitlin could manage, her voice crackling with a sudden hoarseness.

"Couldn't have you trying any funny business," Eiling responded. Barry shuddered, and the razor wire drew more blood. Aside from his moans, the man was unresponsive, unable to run, unable to phase through without risking more serious injury. "Speedsters are slippery little creatures."

"It's unnecessary," Caitlin said, quieter.

"We don't see it that way." Eiling snapped his fingers. The two men who had dragged in Cisco marched over. One shoved Caitlin, hard, to the floor. Then they reached forward with protective gloves and dragged Barry, net and all, backward. The sound that was wrenched from his throat was far from human.

Disoriented, Caitlin dragged herself back up to her elbows and looked over at Joe and Iris and Cisco. All of them were on the floor now. Crimson decorated the computer table. Joe and Cisco supported Iris, who clutched at her arm. Blood oozed between her fingers.

"Iris," Caitlin said.

"It's fine," Iris said with a barely-contained hiss of pain. "It's just a graze." The pieces fell together. Joe's gunshot. The returning gunshot. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she kept saying, swatting away Joe's hands, trying desperately to lean toward Caitlin, toward Barry, to help.

But they were beyond help. A third set of hands, ungloved hands, hands that had shot Iris, grabbed Caitlin by the hair and heaved upward. Blinded by pain, heart beating too fast to contain, she was lifted to a standing position. Her arms were pinioned to her sides as she was pulled, stumbling, from the cortex.

The fresh air of the outside world stung her cheeks. A heavy door slammed behind her, a certain ominous finality to her departure from STAR. Two unmarked vans idled in the lot, shadowy in the failing light. When she realized that she was being separated from Barry, it was too late. The two soldiers dragging Barry tossed him bodily into one van. Eiling followed, but not before turning to Caitlin with a smirk.

"See you soon, Dr. Snow," he said, then stepped into the van. "Let's begin."

The doors slammed behind him and the engine revved. Before she could watch it take off, she was shoved into the second van by the remaining soldier.

She hit the floor of the van hard, and almost instantly after the doors closed, the ground moved beneath her. The soldier who had apprehended her took a seat on one of the hard benches, gun resting on his knees. For the first time, Caitlin noticed the dark red patch staining his shoulder. It appeared Joe's shot had made contact after all.

"You're bleeding," she said venomously, darkly satisfied by the phrase.

The soldier shifted, gave a stiff smile. As if unconsciously, his finger traced the barrel of his gun.

"Yeah," he said. "But I don't think I'll be the only one by the time this is all done."

* * *

The bumpy ride in the van was bad, but nothing could have prepared Caitlin for the cold slap of terror upon entering the facility itself. The fear in the van she was used to; she was used to the lengthening minutes of worry for her friends, the latent helplessness, the scenarios playing on repeat in her brain.

What she wasn't quite so accustomed to was the immediacy of metal doors clanging shut behind her, the stench of copper and mildew and somewhere, perhaps, the sour notes of antiseptic.

At somewhat of a distance, she saw Barry, finally free from the wire net but looking bloodied and limp, dragged in the opposite direction. She made note of the general direction—the facility didn't look big, not like the one Stein had been taken to a year ago, but it would help if she knew where to start looking when she and Barry made their escape.

Shortly after catching sight of Barry, hands gripped her arms again, leading her up a flight of stairs, down a hallway. They stopped in front of a heavy door, and another soldier appeared just in time to unlock it. The key grated, squealed in the lock. In the back of her mind, Caitlin thought she should wonder about how low-tech all of this was; then again, none of this seemed like a military base at all, but rather something abandoned, reconfigured. Perhaps Eiling had been taken down a few notches after the Firestorm incident after all.

If she thought the hallway was dim, the room she found herself in next felt pitch-dark. She blinked to clear her vision, but before she could make out anything, she was pushed down into a metal seat. Thick straps tightened around her wrists and forearms, and it was then that the thought registered: _Bad. Restraints. Bad._

But it was over too fast—in the time it took to realize what was going on, she was immobilized.

In the midst of the sudden, shadowy mob of people now in front of her, she caught sight of Eiling, standing remarkably still, watching.

"This isn't necessary," she said. "Like you said, a deal is a deal. I'll answer your questions about the serum willingly. The restraints are pointless."

 _And what happened to the isolated prison cells_?

Eiling smirked. "We have all of the answers we need about your little serum. Helped us, too, developing that paralyzing poison for Mr. Allen."

Someone in a white coat shuffled by. Caitlin frowned. "I don't understand. If you don't need information, what do you need me for?"

Instead of answering, Eiling nodded at the man in the white coat. He pulled something out of his pocket— _a syringe, it was a syringe_ —and moved toward her. Another person out of Caitlin's field of vision swabbed something cold and damp against the crook of her arm.

The world pressed in around her, and she was suddenly claustrophobic, suffocated, the stench of the warehouse in her nostrils, bodies pressing in. She tried to scream, but her world was silent and dark and confusing. She didn't even feel the prick of the needle, just the tingling as its contents were released into her bloodstream.

It was all the same, Caitlin thought, all the same and it wasn't fair and _god_ she wasn't used to déjà vu this painful, this invasive, this demanding—

She opened eyes that had squeezed shut of their own accord just in time to see the last of the soldiers retreating from the room. The door closed, leaving her reeling, alone and restrained in a dim room with the unknown zinging through her bloodstream.

Back in true solitude, she winced and tried to let her muscles relax. She panted heavily, though there was no use in trying to hide it or any other signs of weakness. It was a windowless room, but there were surely cameras positioned somewhere. The screaming had tipped them off to the fact that she wasn't prepared for this turn of events; no point in trying to pretend that she was in any way in control of the situation or her emotions.

 _Okay, Caitlin, think_. Shakily, she drew in breath. Funnily enough, it was hard to think when yet another mystery substance was slipping through her body. _Focus. You can still salvage this plan if you just focus._

"You never screamed like that for me," came a voice. "Then again, you're too good for me, aren't you?"

Caitlin's heart contracted so hard it hurt. Her head swiveled at whiplash-speed and her eyes went wide to try and adjust to the low light. At the other end of the long room, another chair came into focus. The figure in it was more shadow than anything in this light—but she would know the sound of Jason's voice anywhere.

* * *

 **Thanks as always for reading, and please leave a comment on your way out (even if just to yell at me/chat about the episode)!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	8. Chapter 8

**No new warnings here aside from a few vague references to torture (although if you've made it this far...probably nothing new).**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

At Caitlin's surprised flinch, Jason coughed out a laugh. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Snow."

His voice tore ragged through the room, a dull sawblade. The substance Caitlin had been injected with fled her mind. The déjà vu was back in full force, but this time triggered by the setting—alone in a small room with Jason, restrained in a chair, helpless. And to what end? How could Eiling possibly benefit from having her tortured by Jason again?

"I don't know what you want," Caitlin said shakily, "but if it's revenge, need I remind you that I _spared_ your sorry life…"

"Doesn't matter what I want, does it?" Jason interrupted. "What I want hasn't mattered for weeks."

There it was again, a kind of hacking laugh, a hoarseness that seemed uncharacteristic. Even in the moments he'd been beaten and bloodied, he'd never sounded any less triumphant. He'd never _sounded_ weak as he did now.

Caitlin blinked a few more times to further adjust to the light. It was easier, now that her head was clearing. Or perhaps she was just getting used to the darkness. "Jason," she said, frowning. "What happened to you?"

What she had at first taken to be a shadow now appeared to her as a patchy beard, unkempt, dirty. Jason's hair, too, seemed longer and greasier, with a limpness that befit the rest of his appearance. His outfit was reminiscent of a prison jumpsuit, and perhaps that's what it was—but so ill-fitting and grimy Caitlin had a hard time believing they were standard issue. Or they had been standard issue, but Jason had hollowed and shrunk so much that they no longer appeared so.

But the most telling detail, and the one that Caitlin registered last, was the set of restraints around Jason's wrists and arms. A perfect, disturbing, mirror image of Caitlin.

"You tell me what happened," Jason spat. "You were the one with the cops, right? You were the one who put me into prison. You're telling me it's a coincidence that the military swept in and carted me off here to this hellhole?"

"It was out of our control," Caitlin said. The wheels spun too fast, trying to reconcile this new revelation. "We'd heard that higher-ups had transferred you out of Iron Heights, but we didn't know it was Eiling until r-recently." She couldn't take her eyes off of the restraints. "We all assumed Eiling had recruited you as an ally. To help develop the serum."

Without warning, Jason spat out a gob of saliva. "Oh, I helped him develop the serum, alright," he said. "I told him everything I knew about it while he jabbed me with a cattle prod. Some stuff I didn't even think I knew, too. He has a way of convincing you to remember things."

"But why…" A chill passed through Caitlin, and she swallowed hard. "Why would he torture you? Why not work with you as an ally? You both want to same thing, right?"

"Information about the serum woulda been fine on its own, but that's not all he wanted," Jason continued. "God _damn_ you for leaving me here."

"What else?" Caitlin pressed. She was aware that she might not be able to keep Jason talking for long. Already his hands clenched and unclenched on the arms on the chair. From this distance Caitlin couldn't see it, but she could imagine well enough the vein popping in his forehead. "What else did Eiling want from you?"

"Details on my sister-in-law," Jason snarled. "But you know all about that too, don't you? Did Eiling snatch her away from Iron Heights under your noses, too? Has she alsobeen trapped in this godforsaken place? You know, she never deserved that, not any of this, not when I was the one egging her on to kill you STAR Labs scum."

His words, his regret, seemed strange, out of place. Until Caitlin realized that he didn't know any of it. He didn't know that Rose was a meta. After all this time, he was still in the dark that his accomplice and friend was the thing he hated most.

"They just kept asking and asking," Jason said, with the sudden tone of a deeply traumatized man. The switch might have been laughably dramatic if Caitlin hadn't known just how much trauma Eiling could inflict in an isolated four weeks. If anything, it was amazing Jason still retained any shred of the self she had known. "I don't know what they wanted from me, but I clearly wasn't giving it to them. Then they started doing their little tests."

"T-tests?" Caitlin said. "What tests?"

Jason jerked forward suddenly, a caged animal lunging at the bars, and Caitlin shrunk back in her seat. Even though both of them were securely restrained, the ferocity in Jason's movement threatened to transcend all of that.

"Do you know they treat people like lab animals in here?" Jason said, his hand spasming. "Animals."

He looked down, heaving in a breath. Caitlin repressed another shiver. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, she remembered kneeling in the pipeline, observing Rose Canton like a specimen behind glass. Remembered the harsh light and the ashiness of Canton's face.

But, unbidden, she also remembered the tip of Jason's knife trailing across her eyelids, her nose, her lips.

She took a deep breath to steady herself, focused on relaxing her shoulders. The position in the chair was uncomfortable enough; body tension would only make things work. She had to calm down, keep a level head.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry all of this has happened. You should have been kept in Iron Heights."

"You're sorry?" Jason said. "You don't think I deserve this?" A deep rumble in his throat. "Oh, I forgot, you're the morally superior one."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Caitlin bristled.

Jason growled. "You're above all the petty politics. Nobody deserves to die, not even criminals—because, you know why? Because you've created them. If you sentence monsters to death, you're condemning yourself as well."

"You're _still_ on about metas as monsters?" Caitlin said. "Even after all this? Even after Eiling had you tortured?"

"Because I'm damn terrified," Jason said, his voice cracking. "And you should be, too, Snow. You spout off these high and mighty ideas without ever being accountable. Let's see if you're still cool and collected when you're in the middle of hell like me."

"What's that s-supposed to m-mean?" Caitlin instinctively shrunk back further in her chair. Jason's entire body seemed wracked now in spasms, and she realized that what she'd taken for sweat on his cheeks were actually tears.

She shivered as Jason responded, "You are so adamant about defending metas. Will you defend me? Yourself?"

"I—I don't understand."

"Open your eyes, Snow," Jason said. "Eiling isn't trying to erase metas like I was. He's trying to create them." He jerked against his restraints. "He's been experimenting on me for weeks. I swear to Christ I don't have the metagene, but evidently my blood is compatible with the serum they've been developing. And, apparently, so is yours."

The air came rushing out of Caitlin's body, the realization a hard whammy to the gut. Her blood ran cold and, for the first time, she realized: it was no longer just an expression.

There was no time to consider this or think further. The door to the room squealed open and in strode two people in white coats, two soldiers, and Eiling himself. Caitlin strained against the straps holding her down, but the two scientists headed for Jason, not her. They carried a blood sampling kit and a tablet displaying some kind of brightly-colored chart. It reminded her of the setup he'd used to test Barry's blood during his paralysis and— _oh, god, Barry_ , how was she going to save Barry, how was she ever going to escape now, _what had she done_ —

"I suspect your old friend has filled you in?" Eiling's question snapped Caitlin out of her panic, back to the equally chilling present. "You must have been confused why I had such a keen interest in you and your blood. My apologies for keeping you in the dark, though believe me when I say it was for the best."

"You can't do this," Caitlin said. "You can't just…turn people into metas without their consent."

"Isn't that what you did?" Eiling said idly. "Forgive me, Dr. Snow, for continuing your work. I will admit, I didn't consider you a prime candidate until the incident with Rose Canton all those weeks ago. Until I realized that you we e cohorts with not one, but two metahumans. You understand why I might be curious."

"But I'm not a meta," Caitlin said. "My blood…"

"Has exactly the qualities that react with our serum, we've discovered," Eiling continued. "And yes, I thought there might be better candidates for our program, people more volatile, willing to be bent. That is, until I had my little chat with Mr. Ramon."

 _"_ _They were hurting her," he croaked. "Cait, I'm sorry—I didn't—didn't know what to do, I'm sorry—"_

"What did you do?" Caitlin asked, somehow finding it in herself to conjure up the tone of a threat, a demand. To nobody's surprise, the hardness in her voice did nothing to faze Eiling.

"Traditional interrogation methods proved ineffective against Mr. Ramon," he said, with the air of someone discussing an inconvenient change in the weather. "Not that I was deeply surprised. Hero complexes, however: those can be exploited. Threatening Ms. Canton was enough to prompt him. Yes, once she started screaming, Mr. Ramon was more than willing to tell us about you and your counterpart—what did he call her— _Killer Frost_."

 _Killer Frost_. Now Caitlin understood Cisco's apology, his fearful look. Surely he hadn't known what Eiling would do with the information, but he'd known it wouldn't be good. And now Caitlin could confirm. It wasn't.

"What an asset you'll be when we turn you," Eiling said. "We've never had a weapon quite like Killer Frost. Ruthless. Powerful."

"Killer Frost is a person, not a set of powers," Caitlin spat. "And I'm not that person."

"All in due time," Eiling said idly. He looked to the other end of the room, where the scientists were struggling with an uncooperative Jason. "What is the prognosis?

"This batch seems to be more effective than the last," said one scientist, frowning at the tablet with the blood results. "In fact, it seems our Subject is reacting quite violently to the formula."

"Same powers as last time?" Eiling said.

The scientist nodded. She couldn't have been much older than Caitlin, with an inquisitive face but hard lines around her mouth, like she spent most of her time frowning. "He seems to be reactive. Almost…" Her frown lines deepened. "Explosive."

"Hm," Eiling grunted, and Caitlin wanted to say _It's not a coincidence, powers aren't coincidences, they react to a person's nature_. But the idea was foolish, anyway, and there was no way in hell she was going to help these people with any part of their research.

"Bastards," Jason was mumbling. With the additional light from the hallway, the redness in his features was more apparent. Startling, even. "Bastards, all of you."

"Sir," said the scientist, shoving a pair of thick glasses up further on her now sweat-slicked noise. "The serum was remarkably effective, but…"

"But what?" Eiling barked.

The scientist blanched as Jason jerked forward. A glowing light intensified the redness of his skin, radiating from beneath it: the sleeve of his jumpsuit was smoldering.

 _Explosive_.

"Jason," Caitlin said suddenly, panicked into action. "Jason, you have to fight it. Your powers are—are unstable."

"Somebody get a tranq gun in here!"

"Listen to me," Caitlin continued among the thrum of energy, of activity, now in the tiny room. "If you just calm down, I can help you. You're a danger to yourself." _And all of us_ , she silently added. Jason continued to thrash, and his skin continued to light up with that reddish glow, the light of imminent destruction. She couldn't be sure if she was listening to her, but she shouldered on all the same. "Focus, Jason. You don't have to give in this. You can take hold of your powers. You can control them."

At this, Jason finally swiveled his head toward her, and while his body was alive with sizzling energy so hot Caitlin could feel it across the room, his face was slack. His eyes sought her out, strangely muted, leaking tears.

"I don't want to," he said.

And then he detonated.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading, and, as always, I'd love to hear from you.**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	9. Chapter 9

**We're getting a little darker, guys. Typical warnings for chapters apply-blood and injury, especially.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

The first thing to come back to Caitlin was sound. Not a sound she might expect, like voices or footsteps or music, but a high-pitched whine. It was comforting, in its own way, in its own static, unwavering nature. Soothing, predictable. Until it wasn't.

The whine turned into a painful drone as the other senses returned. Vision blurred into being, as did smell and taste. All of them were like ash. Ash in her eyes, ash in her nose, ash on her tongue. And ash, too, on her skin, which should have burned from the heat of the explosion but didn't. She realized why when she looked down at her hand: a thin, almost imperceptible layer of ice covered her body. It had perhaps once been thicker, but Jason's combustion had reduced it to what it was now. Just enough to keep her unscathed.

Well, not unscathed. Caitlin shook off the unsettling revelation that the serum had worked on her and focused on other things, namely getting to her feet. The blast had been powerful enough to knock her chair to the floor and blow loose her restraints, and she found herself sprawled on the concrete floor with bones made of jelly. She coughed up a lungful of smoke and pressed herself upward. Her arms could barely support her, so she crawled to the wall and used it to heave herself upright.

Once the dust had cleared her eyes enough to see further than her own hand, she surveyed the room. Soldiers and scientists alike lay on the floor, some groaning weakly and others still and silent. Caitlin locked onto the scientist who had been attending Jason, the one with the face so like Caitlin's. She was crumpled against the wall, her clothes and her hair smoldering, her glasses just a twisted mess of plastic on the floor.

It took all of Caitlin's will to look away. The place where Jason had once sat was nothing more than a pile of ashes, the kind of thing one might see at the end of a vaporizing gun in some old science fiction film. The other figure of note was Eiling, stirring feebly by the blown-open door, the rubble of one of the walls. His sleeve had caught fire in the blast, but it was just as well. _Let him burn_ , she thought.

With a buzzing in her ears and smoke in her eyes, she stumbled out of the room and into the hallway. The facility wasn't big, and she'd seen which way, vaguely, Barry had been taken. He was the only thing that mattered now. Once she had him, she would be free.

Him, and Rose Canton. Though, now that the world had gone to hell around her, the likelihood of finding her once-captor seemed thinner than ever. Canton had been their mission, yes, but now—now the mission didn't feel important. The guilt of it clawed at Caitlin's already ragged insides, but she could not allow it to slow her down. Not now. Not when there was still a slim chance of recovering her friend. She was the last hope he had. With Cisco weakened, Iris shot in the arm—there was no telling if anyone would be able to help them anymore.

The hallways were so clouded with dust, and the confusion so palpable in the air, that Caitlin managed to proceed with relative invisibility. None of the soldiers she passed gave her much of a look, determined as they were to reach the site of the explosion, or the exit, depending on their disposition in the face of chaos. Caitlin couldn't blame them for running; the blast had shaken the entire foundation of the building, and the smoke was darker and thicker than any Caitlin had previously encountered.

Only when she reached a stairwell at the end of the hall did things start to level out. The smoke was thinner, alarms muffled, people all but nonexistent. She staggered into the new hallway, which looked more like a cellblock than anything, and paused to lean against the wall. Wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, she discovered that she was bleeding above her eyebrow, the red blood tainted and darkened by soot.

In that one, brief period of silence, she heard the screaming.

It was an unfortunate reality that she could identify, from experience, screaming that belonged to Barry. Without another thought of respite, she dipped forward and lurched toward the sound. Even though ice ran through her blood, she still felt fire, fire that made her lungs burn and her eyes spill over.

Rose Canton could have been behind any of the doors she passed, Caitlin would later muse, but she couldn't stop for anything. The screams guided her relentlessly forward. She managed to keep her feet long enough to find the right door, which she pushed open without a thought to what or who might lie in wait behind it.

Luckily there were only two people in the room: Barry, and a single scientist. This scientist was tall and blonde, with shadowed eyes when he spun toward her. His face flickered in the light from the contraption he was fiddling with. Barry, now shirtless and still covered in blood, convulsed on a table behind him. Electric shocks, Caitlin realized. She had seen evidence of the same treatment on Cisco.

"Turn it off," she said. After all of the smoke inhalation, her voice had turned husky. "Turn it off _now_."

He didn't. Barry wailed. The scientist and Caitlin stared at each other, stock-still, for a moment, wondering what the other would do.

 _Just back away_ , Caitlin wanted to say to him. _You're not like the others. You can run away from all of this. Do what's right. You don't have to be like them._

However, she didn't say any of it. Before she could make a sound, the man rushed her. The attack was so unexpected, she didn't have a chance to move out of the way. The scientist grabbed her by the front of her shirt and tossed her to the ground, and the impact knocked what breath was left out of her body. His dark eyes flashed menacing, and determined.

 _I'm a scientist, too,_ Caitlin thought, wheezing. _You don't have to do this._

But the man was already reaching for something, a walkie-talkie, and the electric currents continued their race through Barry's body. The screaming, the panic, turned Caitlin's stomach inside-out, and she flung herself forward. If the scientist called for help, it would be all over. The place would be flooded with soldiers, strong men and women with guns and batons and needles and knives. This scientist was larger than her by far, but he was only one man. And Caitlin didn't have time to think about the odds.

She caught him by the legs and clawed upward at his white lab coat, her weight enough to topple him sideways. In the tangle of falling limbs that followed, a knee caught Caitlin in the face, sending ringing pain through her cheekbone and temporarily stunning her.

Half-blinded by the tears that sprang to her right eye, she crawled toward the console in an effort to turn off the machine at least, but the scientist grabbed her by the hair and flung her back to the ground. Her lungs would not take in air: they smoldered and groaned with the effort. What little breath she did manage was soon stifled by a forearm pressed against her windpipe.

"Stay down," the scientist said, kneeling over her, his weight crushing against her throat. A droplet of his sweat spattered against Caitlin's cheek. "You're one of the new Subjects, aren't you? You're trying to escape?"

Caitlin choked, fingers scrabbling weakly at the arm that pinned her down. "Stop," she said. "Let us go. Please."

" _Stay. Down_."

The words were punctuated by a firm shove downward, surely bruising Caitlin's throat, rendering her utterly speechless. A shrieking sound assailed her. She thought it was Barry at first before realizing that it was her own blood, calling for release. Forces were moving underneath her skin, creeping outward, awakened. She was losing consciousness fast, and Barry's cries were fading.

 _Please don't please don't this can't be happening I won't let you hurt him I won't let you hurt us—_

The pressure was released from her throat suddenly, the scientist moving as quickly as though he'd been burned. Caitlin blinked away the gathering darkness, watching him sluggishly. One arm he kept close to his chest, and the other groped upward, reaching again for the walkie-talkie.

 _No._

In a burst of last-ditch energy, Caitlin rolled to her stomach and dragged herself on hands and knees toward him. This time, it was him who couldn't react. She had just enough time to see what had shocked him—his arm, now coated in solid ice—before she fell forward and planted her hands on his chest.

His eyes widened as they met hers. She channeled as much of her desperation, her anger, her anguish as she could, hoped he would understand just through her eyes. For a moment, she thought that he did: his eyes remained wide and glassy, fixed on her.

Then it hit her all at once, that the eyes themselves were not glassy, not sparkling with warmth or life or even darkness anymore. She pulled away from the body. The scientist was encased in ice, stiff and cold in his last moments of shocked comprehension.

If Caitlin had been in any fit state to do so, she might have vomited. As it was, she watched the world tunnel out of existence for what could have been seconds, hours, years. An aggressive, domineering part of her wanted to black out, to make the image in front of her disappear for a time. But the scene came rushing back all the same, not quite reality anymore, something she was not entirely a part of.

Somehow, driven by a mindless goal, Caitlin found herself pulling herself to her feet and pressing a button on the console. All at once the persistent thrum of electricity halted, and Barry's thrashing devolved into a kind of dull twitching.

"Barry," she said automatically. "Are you alright? We have to go."

She was piloted now by some distant sense of purpose, a wheel that she could not stop from moving. Once it was over, she told herself vaguely. Once it was over, she could allow herself to process, to break down.

Barry groaned, moved his head stiffly to the side. It seemed ages before his eyes cracked open. "Need...some help."

Right. He was still secured to the table by leather restraints, not unlike those used to hold Caitlin. They were simple buckles, clearly not intended for long-time use, easy to unfasten and refasten as needed. Still, all at once the task of undoing them seemed daunting. She froze, breath caught in her throat, suddenly afraid of her own hands.

"Cait," Barry moaned, looking barely conscious. "Help."

She couldn't be afraid, not now, not when courage was so crucial. She took a deep breath and fumbled forward with the restraints, trying to balance caution with urgency. Barry had not seen what she'd done to the scientist—he had no reason to believe that she was not still herself.

When she'd unbuckled all of the many straps, she gingerly put her arm around Barry to help him sit up and scooch off of the table. Fear strangled her as her hands made contact with his bare skin. But he had always run hot, and the warmth felt surprisingly reassuring underneath her fingertips. As his heat radiated into her, some of the shock symptoms melted, as did much of her hesitancy and disorientation.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," she said honestly, as she helped Barry limp toward the doorway. "Things went a little...sideways."

"Mm." Barry leaned heavily on her. She wondered about the paralytic that had been on the barbed net. How long did they have until it immobilized him completely? Had the electricity slowed the process down or sped it up? No matter, she told herself. There was no way they had time to search for Canton, in any case.

"Can you run?" Caitlin asked.

"I…" Barry shivered under her touch. "I don't know, maybe. I don't think I can carry two people, though."

"It's fine," Caitlin said unconvincingly. "The mission is a bust anyway. I don't think we have time to look for Canton. We'll get back to STAR, regroup, figure things out from there."

But Barry halted. "Caitlin," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. When she followed his gaze upward, she saw what had caused his tone to fall so dramatically.

It turned out, they didn't have to search for Canton after all. No, she appeared in the flesh at the end of the hallway, standing so still she too might have been frozen, with Eiling's gun pressed to her temple.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading! I hope you're ready...only one more chapter to go! I appreciate all of your comments!**

 **Till next time,**

 **Penn**


	10. Chapter 10

**We've made it to the last chapter! I won't say much, other than to stick around at the end for a few details about the next fic.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Rose Canton's hair had never looked so bright red, Caitlin thought. Maybe it was the way it punched through the smokiness of the hallway, a spot of color. Maybe it was simply the contrast of her hair against her unusually-pale skin, the result of days of captivity. It was amazing, Caitlin mused, what only a few days with Eiling could do to a person. Canton, as Caitlin knew her, had been strong willed—yet her body language spoke of defeat, and the paleness of her skin echoed something far grimmer.

Eiling tightened his grip on the gun that now pressed against those red locks and said, "Leaving so soon?"

Barry stiffened, twisted out of Caitlin's grasp. "It's over," he said. "You've lost. Let her go."

"You have no idea what's going on here," Eiling said. "You really think I've lost, after one minor inconvenience?"

Canton was mouthing something, and it took Caitlin a moment to realize that it was _Run. Run._

"I'm not leaving you," Caitlin said. She hadn't meant to say it out loud, exactly, but she needed Canton to understand. It seemed silly that just minutes ago she'd been resigned to leaving Canton behind, and yet—

"Didn't think our friend Jason could pack such a punch," Eiling said. "Explosive personality, and, well...caught us all by surprise, didn't it?" He laughed a hollow laugh. His sleeve still smoldered. "His demise doesn't negate what you can do, does it? Doesn't negate the fact that I still want you."

"Yeah?" Barry said. "Well, you're not going to get me. You're done."

"Funnily enough, I wasn't talking to you," Eiling said, his eyes still fixed on Caitlin. "Oh, I would kill to have you, Flash, but you're not the only chosen one now."

The words sent chills of terror through Caitlin's body. What did he mean by _chosen one_?

"I'm not joining you, if that's what you're thinking," she said. "Just because your temporary serum worked—"

"That's exactly why," Eiling said. "You're not going to go back to all of your friends at STAR Labs with those powers, are you?"

Caitlin pressed her lips tight together. Barry leaned against the wall for support, head turning from Caitlin to Eiling and back again. "What is he talking about?"

"Oho!" Eiling barked. "You haven't told him?"

"I've been a little busy," Caitlin snapped.

"Clearly!" Eiling's delighted tone gave Caitlin pause, carved out a new pit of unease in her gut. She'd never seen him look so triumphant; the sight of him battered and scorched and still smiling was more terrifying than anything she'd seen before.

 _Clearly_. The understanding arrived at once. She saw his eyes flick toward the wide-open door she'd just emerged from. Barry caught the pointed look, too, and craned his neck to look into the room.

"What?" he said. "Cait, what is he—what hap—"

"It's nothing," Caitlin said hastily, but her heart wasn't in it. She didn't try to block the door, and didn't look at Barry's face, either. She didn't want to see it crumple.

"Is that…" Barry said. "Is he dead?"

"Frozen through like a popsicle, I'd say," Eiling said. "Killed just for doing his job."

"How?" Barry sounded breathless, confused, fearful. "What's going on, Cait?"

"I did it," she responded. She didn't wait for the silence to stretch, couldn't bear it. "Eiling's been developing a serum to give people powers. He tested it on me and, well…"

In her periphery, Barry shifted. "He made you kill that man?"

"He didn't make me," Caitlin said, voice cracking. She finally looked back up at Barry, vision blurred so much that his features swam. "He was hurting you, and I…I didn't mean to, but…"

"Doesn't matter what you meant," Eiling said. "Powers are damn useful regardless of meaning, aren't they?"

Caitlin kept her eyes locked on Barry's, simultaneously pleading and apologizing, but his expression was too hard to read. A tear escaped the corner of her eye and streaked down to her chin. She averted her gaze and instead looked to Rose Canton—and the intensity in her eyes shocked Caitlin. Even with a gun pressed to her temple, an arm around her throat, she suddenly emanated such a fierce and unrelenting energy that it threatened to knock Caitlin backward.

"Don't do this to yourself, Snow," she croaked. "Get out of here."

Eiling's chokehold tightened, and Canton squeezed her eyes shut.

"If you two speed out of here, I will kill her," Eiling threatened. "I'll kill her and then, mark my words, I will come after you. We have what we need from her. She's expendable to us. Is she expendable to you?"

Caitlin didn't dare glance at Barry. It would be easy, she thought. Just a blink and they could both be gone. That Barry could run them to safety she had no doubt; he'd done more miraculous things under more physical stress before. If they stayed any longer, their window of opportunity would likely shut, and all three of them would be trapped. But, at the same time, Caitlin did not doubt Eiling's promise.

As if to solidify the sense of urgency, the bootsteps of reinforcements stomped above, clattered in the stairwell. Eiling heard them at the same time, tilted his head.

At the minor distraction, Canton leapt into action. Her head jerked backward and caught Eiling in the nose, and simultaneously her elbow slammed into his gut. It was hardly enough to stop him, but enough to slow him down. On instinct, Caitlin launched forward and threw Canton bodily behind her. She went for Eiling next, but she stopped short at the click of a gun's safety.

The barrel of Eiling's gun stared her down, two feet from her face. "Are you going to kill me, Dr. Snow?"

She blinked, then realized that she'd thrown up her fists in defense, as if that could help against a flashing gun. It took her a moment more to realize that her fists were glowing blue and practically dripping with cold. She hadn't meant to summon the energy again, but here it was, a response as unconscious as breathing.

"I could," Caitlin threatened. "In a second."

"I know," Eiling said. "But you won't."

Caitlin considered, paused, looked down at her hands. The hesitation stretched. And in that moment of indecision, Eiling fired.

Caitlin had always heard that being shot was an out-of-body experience, that sometimes the pain of the wound was not immediately felt. She'd been a doctor long enough to know that adrenaline had miraculous numbing effects on the body. So when she saw the muzzle of the gun flash and felt nothing, she looked down at the front of her clothes to visually confirm where the bullet had hit her. When she didn't see any blood, the weight settled, and she turned.

Behind her, Rose Canton collapsed, blood gushing from a wound in her stomach. She didn't yell, or cry, or make any other sound aside from a weak exhale. She hit the ground, clutching feebly at her stomach, eyes blankly searching the ceiling.

Normally, Caitlin would have rushed to the injured woman immediately, offer assistance, press her hands to the wound as she'd once pressed her hands to the stab wound in Barry's gut. But now her hands could not be trusted; they sputtered frigid blue and had the power to kill.

Rather than give into that fear, she embraced it. She spun back around and grabbed Eiling's gun where it was still outstretched. It froze, almost instantly. Eiling's hand jerked away from it, and Caitlin clenched it so hard the ice cracked. When she tossed it to the wall, it shattered. Before the fragments had even touched the floor, she locked her hand around Eiling's throat and shoved him back against the wall.

She focused on her breathing, keeping it steady, keeping her pulse level. Now that she had opened up, she could feel the way the ice shifted and rippled beneath her skin. It no longer had a mind of its own—rather, it had a mind, but Caitlin's own mind was connected to it. She halted the flow of power at her fingertips, keeping her hands cold and blue, but not allowing the energy to spring outward. The spark of fear in Eiling's eyes, no matter how brief, was worth it.

"You won't do it, will you?" he choked against the stranglehold. "Or have I made you a killer after all?"

The bootsteps were thunderous on the stairs. Soldiers would be breaking through into the hall at any moment with muscle and mass and firepower. The earth seemed to rumble. Caitlin looked to Barry, who had fallen to his knees beside the prone, bleeding Canton. His soft words of comfort did nothing. She was fading, and fast.

 _I don't think I can carry two people_ , he had said.

"Barry, take her," Caitlin said. "You have to get out of here right now."

Barry looked up, blanched. "But…"

"Don't argue with me," she said. "She's going to bleed out, and you're not going to be able to escape yourself if you wait any longer."

Barry's jaw worked furiously, his fingers clenching and unclenching to mirror it—but the harshness was contrasted by that familiar lost, confused look crystallizing in his eyes.

"Cait," he at last said softly.

She swallowed hard, willed the tears to slow. She couldn't lose control, not now.

"Go."

The stairwell was alive with shouting and stomping: the soldiers began pouring into the hall, raising guns. Caitlin opened her mouth to say something else, something she would probably forget, but before she could get the words out, Barry streaked past her in a blur of golden light. All that remained of him and Rose Canton in the facility were the smears of blood in the hallway they had occupied just moments before.

As soon as they were gone, Caitlin wrenched herself away from Eiling, who spluttered and coughed. The fight was gone from Caitlin's body, the cold fast retracting from her hands, and she trembled like she'd never trembled before in her life. She thought she might crumple there, crumple to the floor like a poorly-constructed house of cards, but soldiers caught her around the arms before she had a chance.

"Knew you wouldn't," Eiling said once he had regained his breath. Even though Caitlin had held back her powers and left him alive, she could see what looked like black lines of frostbite on his neck from her fingers. "But you will," he added. "You will, my Killer Frost."

She wanted to see Barry's lightning one more time. She wanted to feel the warmth of it zinging past her, hear the crackle of light and hope and clarity. She wanted to sit on one of the beat-up STAR Labs couches with her friends beside her, and, most foolishly, she wanted a mug of hot soup at the close of a long day.

She thought all of this as the soldiers dragged her backward by the arms. They flung her into a cell with a cement floor and cement walls, and all light vanished when the heavy door boomed shut.

* * *

 **Join me in hell!**

 **I know I'm going to get yelled at for this ending, but I figured...ending chapters with cliffhangers was getting old, so why not step up my game and END AN ENTIRE FIC ON A CLIFFHANGER.**

 **As I mentioned at the beginning of this fic, this is the second fic of a three-part series, so never fear-I am hard at work on the third part as we speak. I'm about 60% complete, so if not by the end of the month, then definitely sometime in November I can start posting. And even if you don't join me for that one, thank you to everyone who has come along for the ride with this fic! I did not expect so many people to stick around, and your comments have been absolutely lovely and funny and thoughtful. I love sharing fic with you, more than I can express. So thank you, thank you, thank you!**

 **See you soon, and, until then, come chat with me on tumblr at pennflinn. Till next time!**

 **Penn**


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